


the phantom

by GusKinney



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GusKinney/pseuds/GusKinney





	1. mother

A tense silence had fallen across the London Precinct while their dedicated commissioner flew off the handle after his case had been stolen, yet again, by none other than, Ciel Phantomhive. In-between his bouts of anger you could hear a pin drop. Nobody dared question or criticize him at this point, not unless they wished to be stuck in the office doing paperwork for the rest of the year. Arthur Randall would calm down eventually. Hopefully he would be distracted by some more, less high profile cases that the Queen wouldn't take an interest in.

The rest of London's finest were as in the dark as their fuming commissioner was about why the Queen had taken so much interest in the particular case, but at the same time they had almost expected her watchdog to come in and handle it. There was no point in complaining about something they couldn't chance. "Who the hell does he think he is? Just how long does he think he can keep this up? That brat isn't even qualified for this level of detective work!"

He paused and looked to Detective Abberline, who was rummaging through a filing cabinet for the rest of the case files. Abberlin started and quickly nodded, agreeing with his superior (despite having not been paying any attention). The newly promoted Detective was easily shaken by Randall's outbursts, and had yet grown to expect them. He hadn't known how to cope with them at first, and followed the rest of the equally frustrated herd. This was one of the times Abberline would have preferred fading into the background with the rest of them, but lately he couldn't catch a break.

There was a change in atmosphere when the front door opened, a burst of chilly air rushing in from the bustling street outside. Arthur paused in his ramblings and turned, half expecting to find Ciel's butler standing there. His eyes narrowed behind wire-framed glasses as he watched the intruder swagger in as if he owned the place. An air of confidence hung about him, but it clung to the border of arrogance, and often bounced back and forth between the two. As gentle as a kitten at times, then, when need be, that innocence melting away to reveal a cruel and merciless nature that lurked just beneath the surface. In the right light his hair was easily mistaken for a dingy crimson. The young man's open, burgundy coat billowed out behind him as he walked and a thin enveloped was nestled between the long fingers on his gloved left hand.

The officer in charge of watched the front desk scrambled to stop him from sauntering into the main bullpen, but it was a lost cause. Any orders for him to 'stop where he was' and 'come back' had fallen on deaf ears. By time the officer had stumbled into the back room, the young man had already found his target. He boldly walked up to the commissioner and forcefully requested a moment in private, mischief gleaming in gold eyes.

Randall straightened his waistcoat and motioned the taller man into his office, watching him with trained eyes. He didn't trust the youngster any farther than he could throw him, he reminded him too much of the Phantomhive boy. Then again, the young man didn't think to highly of Randall either, or Scotland Yard in general. Stories of corrupt officers were spreading amongst London's citizens, and one by one they were starting to lose their faith in the police as well.

The young man folded himself into the chair across from Randalls cluttered desk and eyed the dingy room with contempt. Dust floated through the air and visions of the place on fire floated through his head. But that's all they were, passing thoughts. He would never do something that reckless unless someone had provoked him into doing it. And even then he would deny it with his last breath. While he did have some issues with impulse control, he had never done something that bad. Knocking his mother's prized crystal vase off the table as a dare? Yes. Burn down the police station because it was a disorganized fire hazard? No. Although he did have a fondness for fire. All the swirling hues of orange and yellow were enough to put him into a trance.

The young man slid the envelope onto the desk and looked on as Randall examined the seal on the envelope, thinking he would be able to distinguish a coat of arms, only to find a skull embedded in the black wax. "What's this about?"

The man threw his hands up in surrender and he cooly explained, "Does it look like I've read it? I'm just the messenger, don't shoot me." Something about the almost velvet quality of his voice threw Randall to distrust him even more. He's just like that damned butler.

Randall's brow creased with frustration as he tore off the seal and skimmed the contents of the letter, his mouth settling in a hard line. "Who sent you?"His tone was clipped, and he barely managed to contain another bout of rage.

The young man looked around as if he might have been followed, then leaned forward in the creaky chair, dropping his voice to a low, almost hypnotic whisper. "That's classified."

"Classified!"

Taken aback at the outburst, the man leaned back a few micro inches and nodded. "It'd cause problems for them if I was to say. And like I said, I'm only the messenger. It's not my place."

Randall huffed and rose from his chair, splaying his hands on the desk while the stranger leaned back in the chair. The commissioner felt attacked and was lashing out, this letter combined with earlier events weren't helping him. However, the young stranger hid a smirk, having expected this sort of reaction from the beginning. He had done his homework before coming here. "It is when you have just threatened a police officer, do you wish to be arrested?"

Pretending to be interested, and he hadn't seen the letter himself, the young man tried stealing a glance at the thin sheet of parchment. "Why, what does it say?"

"As if you don't know! You're the one who wrote it!"

The young man slowly rose from his chair and mimicked Randall's pose, the only difference being the young man actually appeared menacing. His voice was calm when he spoke, and he maintained his control while Arthur allowed his rage to cloud his judgement. "Are you trying to slander my good name? Here I was thinking this was the safest place I could possible be in the city and yet it would appear I should have to suffer abuse at the hands of London's so-called finest as well. I'm ashamed for having made the mistake of thinking you better than the one-track bigoted minds that lurk just outside these doors. Perhaps this is why you have received such an upsetting document."

Randall fell silent while the man rose to his full height and drew his coat closed, silently threatening to leave. But the man's movements were slow and deliberate, he knew that their business wasn't quite done. He was going to give Randall ample time to recollect himself and say what needed to be said. Only then would he truly take his leave. Randall seated himself again while the man remained standing, and began, "Tell me…" Arthur paused, fishing for a name but the man wasn't going to give him one. His cousin would have gotten snippy with him if his 'beloved' police commissioner started to think he was the one who had sent him here. The last thing the man wanted was to spend a tense afternoon with his cousin until they ended up playing some overly meaningful game or started arguing in metaphors until his mother came in and chided them both for acting like children. In his defense, he was the more mature of the two. "What do you have to say about the performance of this department?"

Completely undermining his previous statement, or enhancing it depending on the person, he replied, "I have been away for quite some time. I've only been back from Germany about a month, but if anything remains the same I have no problem placing my trust in the hands of you and your men. Unless something has gone wrong in my absence." The young man paused and tipped his head to the side, "Why do you ask?"

Arthur was momentarily speechless, then his eyes narrowed and he commented, "you seem to have had a different opinion just a moment ago."

"I've never said that. I've only said what I've heard while in town. It's a shame the people have so little faith in you. Then again, I've heard the same being said about the Phantomhive boy… Ciel is it? It seems they don't know who they trust more, but they do seem to favor him since he has had many audience with the Queen herself. She's handpicked him to do her bidding."

Randall fell silent again. trying to organize his thoughts, but the man chose now to take his leave and put an end to the topic at hand. "If that will be all I must get going. I am a very busy man."

The young man had hardly taken two steps out the door when Randall's chair could be heard scraping across the wooden floor and he called after his visitor, "I won't be backing down! Tell them that!"

The young man waved off Randall's comment as if it had been an annoying fly, "Tell them yourself when they come. My job here is done."

Once Arthur was sure the man was out of earshot he tossed the nearest pile of papers to the floor and paced around his office. The precinct looked on as their Commissioner lost his composed yet again, and collectively wondered what the retreating figure had said to upset him so much.

The doors to Scotland Yard closed for the last time that morning, and the young man climbed into the waiting carriage. A dreary sigh escaped him as he sunk into the seat and the carriage began it's long journey back to the place he called home.

A woman clad in red sat across from him, and took a moment to silently regarded her son's almost smug smirk before asking, "how did it go?"

Her son shifted into a more comfortable position and replied, "as we planned. I told you it was going to be easy." He paused briefly and took in his mother's slight frown before adding, "don't worry."

"But I do worry. You're my precious child and I would do anything for you." He rolled his eyes and thought, but Ciel will always mean more. He didn't dare say that out loud, but they both knew it was true. If she had to chose between her son and Ceil, her son would be the one to find himself betrayed by his mother. "Vincent don't give me that. It's true."

Vincent forced out a small smile and replied, "yes mother dearest." He returned to staring out at the dreary landscape while his mother sighed. She tried sounding angry with him, but if anything she sounded tired. "Must you be so mean to me? You have me to thank for your brains." A small, more genuine smile crossed Vincent's face and his mother added, "I love you."

Having been through this exchange more times than he could count, Vincent tool a deep breath and his eyes flicked over to where his mother was sitting when he stated, "I love you too." Vincent moved to sit next to his mother and placed his head in her lap, more for her benefit than his. It didn't take much to make her happy in moments like this. When she started stroking his hair, and brushing it off of Vincent's face, that's when he knew he had done his job, for now at least.


	2. Death and deal

Vincent tore through the back streets of London, following the general direction he thought his mother had gone. Upon finding the house empty, confusion washed over him. She had been the one nagging him not to stay out so late with a killer on the loose, so why was she out roaming this late? Was she trying to get herself killed? He still couldn't make sense of it.

A crossroad loomed ahead of him and Vincent came to a stop. Puffs of smoke billowed around him with each ragged breath. Minuscule droplets of water drifted through the air, signalling an impending storm. There hadn't been a soul around for blocks, and the only distinct sound around was the rats shuffling around in the darkness. Try as he might, Vincent couldn't hear anything that gave him a sign for where to go next. Taking a shot in the dark, he took a left and headed further into the unknown.

He drew closer to an alleyway, and heard several voices, accompanied by a strange, and grating mechanical whirring. Vincent ducked into the shadows provided by a nearby building and slunk along the uneven brick wall. The voices grew louder, and easier to hear, but when Vincent peeked around the edge of the building he found himself unable to place most of them. For the time being, it was a good thing he didn't recognize Ciel and Sebastian standing there. He was more focused on his mother standing in front of them, next to a strange man. The man had long. bright red hair and unnaturally sharp teeth. With his current smirk, he much resembled the cat that ate the canary.

A metallic clattering broke the tense silence as Madam red dropped the dagger she had and sobbed, "I won't!"

The man's smile quickly disappeared and his stance changed as he lurched forward. Droplets of blood smeared on the sides of his face as his saw ripped its way through flesh and bone as if it was no more than a piece of paper.

Vincent fell back against the fall and covered his mouth with his hand as if it could erase the horrors he had just seen.

Silence rang through my ears as I fell to the ground. She's dead. My… mother is… A cold numbness spread through me while I hugged my knees to my chest. This isn't real… it can't be. Icy droplets of water soaking through my coat dragged me back to reality, if only for a moment, and I forced myself to stand on leaden feet. Everything was blurred, whether it was from the rain or shock it was too soon to tell.

Whatever direction I took seemed pointless. Why should I go home? Nobody was going to be there...well nobody I wanted to see. Maybe I hadn't been the fondest of my mother, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I hated her or ever wished harm to her. I would have liked it if she had paid a little more attention to me when I was home but other than that I felt she did her best. Maybe if I hadn't been so standoffish with her she wouldn't have…

Droplets of water flew out of my hair when I shook my head, and forced my thoughts elsewhere. This couldn't have possibly been my fault. I was home a whole hour before the time she set for me. She probably would have still would have left if I hadn't gone out at all. She always had these weird clubs she was in or secret parties that I wanted no part of. I never really thought much of her coming and goings until now. Normally if she told me not to do something she wouldn't go and do it herself. Nothing about this feels right. What was she doing?

Turning up the collar of my coat, I took a deep breath and wiped my face on the damp fabric. Even after reaching the center of the city there wasn't a soul around. With this 'Jack the Ripper' running around and the sudden rain I couldn't really be surprised, but it was still early. For me at least.

Was that what I saw? In all the reports Jack the Ripper had a surgical precision, I highly doubted they'd be carrying about something as destructive as that. It's just some strange coincidence. A long sigh escaped me as I slicked back my hair. I could practically hear Ciel telling me there was no such thing. For such a half-pint he certainly was a smart ass. He better be in bed by now. The only person allowed to lecture me is… "I hope you don't plan on tracking water all over my clean house."

I blinked a few times the peered into the darkness where Sebastian was standing. The door clicked shut behind me as I rested my weight against it, my eyes never leaving his. "Good evening to you to. I hope I didn't wake you."

His red eyes narrowed slightly as I dropped my soaked coat on the floor, and pulled off my muddy boots. "Did you have a nice walk?"

I caught a small smile on his face as I pulled off my wet shirt and took a step forward. "Quite nice." I could feel his eyes on me as I gathered my things and started towards the stairs. Each drop of water that fell onto the floor in my wake was a personal victory. "Is my mother back yet? She had the nerve to tell me to come home early, so I trust she did the same herself."

"She had not. The Madam seemed to have some very urgent business to attend to."

I rolled my eyes, trying not to think too much about the reality of the situation. This felt like some sort of sick game I had thrown myself into without wanting to play in the first place. What am I doing? It feels like he knows something. He probably wants me to play with him. "Pity, I'll have to give her an earful on the ride home. If you're done, I'm retiring for the evening."

Sebastian waited until I was earshot before walking away, probably to get a towel for all the water on the tiled floor. With a bit of luck, I made it too my room and fumbled around in the dim light for a few moments while I took off the rest of my wet clothes and laid them on a nearby chair to dry. I could almost hear my mother telling me I would get sick if I went to bed now, but it didn't seem to matter as I curled up underneath the blankets. Feeling gradually returned to my numb limbs, but as tired as I was sleep wouldn't come. When I closed my eyes all I could see was my mothers blood spraying everywhere and the sound…

My body shook uncontrollably and I buried my face in a pillow, longing to forget, even if it was just for a minute. It's not fair, what did I do to deserve this?

"Master Vincent get up! You have company and it's almost noon." I peeked out from underneath the blankets, only to be blinded by the light coming in through the open curtains and burying my face in the closest pillow. I could hear my heart beating in my chest and just wanted it all to stop. My head was throbbing and in the fleetingly brief moment of silence my ears were ringing. Why now? Who the hell is visiting me?

"Later."

Myra pulled back the covers and stood in front of me, thankfully blocking the harsh afternoon sun. "Now. What would your mother think? If you keep drinking like you did last night you're going to ruin your liver."

I groaned softly and placed a pillow over my head. "I'm already dying."

She pulled it off of me and smacked me with it, jarring my entire body. "You're not dying, you're hungover. You'll not get anything from me until you march your backside downstairs and deal with what needs to be dealt with."

Sighing I summoned the strength to stand. The spinning room quickly deterred me and I slumped to the floor. "I'll pass. It's quite nice down here."

I shivered at a sudden draft and Myra took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. "You're not going to get any better lying around. Now march."

Flopping sideways I closed my eyes again. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

"I'm not being mean, you're being stubborn. This isn't going to help anything. Now go out there and greet your guest while I make you some coffee."

Opening one eye, I peered up at her from my place on the floor and struggled to a sitting position again. "Can I have a sandwich too?"

"If you get off the floor you can have whatever you like." I reluctantly slipped my hand into hers and pulled myself up again, toddling along after her as I tried to keep my bearings in this spinning and duplicated world. I'm never drinking that much again, this is horrible. "Aren't you at least going to put a shirt on?"

I shook my head and followed her out on the hallway, relying on the wall to keep my balance. The frustratingly bright foyer sent pain spearing through my frontal lobe. For a brief moment, I thought I might have ended up blacking out.

The descent down the stairs felt like miles, and at the bottom I had to keep my back pressed against the banister. Squinting in the bright light, I managed, "what do you want?"

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered and pulled his hat off, dipping his head in greeting before speaking. With how much I had been following Ciel around the past couple weeks I'm surprised he hadn't figured out who I was then. Unless he mistook me for one of my mother's man servants. "On behalf of the department I offer my sincerest-

"Cut to the chase. I've gotten enough flowers from all the empty condolences from my mother's various friends to fill the sun room thrice over. Your words mean nothing to me."

Randall cleared his throat and redirected into what he needed to say. "I have been told that your presence is unaccounted for during the time of Madam Dur-

"Red."

"Madam Red's time of death and-

"I was out with some girls I met during a parted ways around eight, after all I wouldn't want to put them in harms way with this 'Jack the Ripper' running about. I wasn't ready to go home so I took a walk and came home around ten. But my cousin seemed to have a late night as well and you can't seriously be suspecting me in killing my own mother?"

There was a long silence that answered my question, but he still felt the need to try to lie to me. "Of course not, but we must leave no stone unturned. It's just protocol."

"This 'protocol' better not become a habit with you. I could find who killed her in half the time you could. Deductive skills seem to run in the family, and I've got my mother's brains." I took a step forward and looked down at him. "That is, if he doesn't come for you before I do."

Randall paled and he took a step back. He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and calmly explained, "I do not feel threatened by a man who hides behind words written on a piece of paper."

"Pity. After all, the pen is mightier than a sword and if you string enough words along together you can absolutely destroy someone."

"Is that a threat?"

I shrugged, taking another step forward. "I don't know, is it?"

Randall huffed, his face turning red from anger as he studied me. It's way to easy to ruffle his feathers. How the hell did he manage to get himself all the way up to commissioner? "I shall stop by if I have any further questions. Have a good day." He dipped his head again then turned sharply his heel. His footsteps echoed around the enclosed space, followed by the door opening and closing again before I was graced with silence again. If only I could do something about all this light now.

The stairs loomed behind me, and I decided against going back to my room. If I closed all the curtains the drawing room would have been dark enough. Nodding to myself, I wandered into one of the side rooms and flopped onto one of the couches. When was the phantom supposed to meet with him anyway? I rubbed my face with my hands, wondering how I was supposed to pull this off now. Nobody would have noticed if I didn't bother. Randall might have spent his days being overly paranoid but I was willing to accept that. It was obvious the man didn't like me. This was the only thing she's ever asked me to do. I feel like I owe her at least this.

"Vincent?" Myra dragged me out of my thoughts for time being as she brought a tray in for me. "There you are. Now don't drink the whole pot or you'll be bouncing off the walls all afternoon. And make sure you don't sleep the rest of the day away. Get your blood flowing."

I nodded weakly and momentarily picked my head up. "Thank you."

"I mean it. If I catch you sleeping some ice water will be the first thing you get from me."

I nodded again, struggling into a sitting position. "I will...later. When the sun isn't out."

She ruffled my hair on the way out and left me to nurse my headache in peace...for the time being at least. I guess I have no choice...I do have to get out of the house after all.

This was so much easier during the day. At least then I could see where I was going. After nearly slipping off yet another roof, I reached my destination, an wiggled the window open from the outside. The breaking was a lot easier than the sneaking around part. Unceremoniously toppling into the small room, I looked around. Everything here was just as disorganized as his office at the precinct.

The door was thrown open as I folded myself into Randall's desk chair and got settled. He looked from me to the open window a few times before asking the obvious, "Who are you?"

"Did that boy not deliver my note? I'm the Phantom, and I've come for you."

Randall took a step forward, before whipping my hood off. His face turned red again and he exclaimed, "I knew it was you!" I probably should have wearied the mask too...then again, it would have just wasted time.

"Congratulations, you've got me. Now I have something to ask, and keep your voice down. I'd really like to not give my position away."

He folded his arms over his chest and loomed over me, once again trying to be intimidating and failing. "Why in God's name would I do anything for you? You've threatened me and now you've broken into my home. I should arrest you."

"My mother wrote the note actually. My handwriting is crap. And this was her idea. But you aren't going to arrest me because, being a British aristocrat of a well bred family, i am above the law." His brow furrowed and I quickly added, "don't give me that! I could buy this entire building and fund you lot for the next twenty years if I wished. Which I don't. You have more holes in your structure than a siv."

Randall didn't even bother to deny it. He must have come to terms with it a long time ago. Right now it was just a matter of plugging up the holes, but he couldn't do it himself. I also wanted access to the police files Ciel hadn't taken to find who had killed my mother. If I had half the brains my mother thought I had this should have been a piece of cake. "I won't deny that, but why on earth would I accept your help? For all I know your reporting back to Phantomhive."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "As if. We don't get along. Think of it as a sibling rivalry, oil and water and all that. He expects nothing from me so in return I give him nothing. It's a wonderful relationship and I hope he doesn't sit near me at the funeral. I might be tempted to hit him. I wouldn't be surprised if this whole thing is his fault. If he even shows up at all because-

I stopped myself short and forced out a small smile, "But I digress. It's me or waiting around for Ciel to take the rest of your cases." Noting his need to feel in control of things I added, "Maybe then the Queen will put him out of commission for good and Scotland Yard will be returned to it's former glory."

Randall watched as I stood, doing nothing to indicate his train of thought. I doubted he would actually say no, but other than rage it was hard to read him. "Fine. But I will not have you running around causing any more chaos in my city. Am I clear? You follow what I say. You are not a vigilante."

I nodded in agreement, trying to sound sincere when I replied, "Of course. I would never want to do something that would reflect badly on you. I simply want to find out what happened to my mother. Just keep in mind our meetings need to remain a secret."

"Of course."

Climbing onto the desk again, I perched on the windowsill and pulled my hood back up. "I'll be in touch." The light from the window gradually faded as I crept along the roofs again. Randall slamming his window shut officially ended our discussion. For now at least.


	3. let the good times role

A gentle breeze ruffled Vincent's cape from where he was perched atop a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He had been up there for quite some time, anticipating the arrivals for his latest case. However, after about an hour of sitting there with nothing to do but stare at the ocean, he was growing restless. He paced around the tin roof a few times in order to get the blood properly flowing to his legs again. Being in a crouch for so long war wreaking havoc on his muscles. If it had been any later in the year his limbs would have been numb from the cold, even with his insulated suit. This is taking forever. Where is everyone?

The Jack the Ripper hype still hadn't died down, so the streets weren't exactly teeming with activity. Vincent sighed to himself and took another walk along the roof. He hadn't thought to bring a watch, but decided if nobody was there in what he felt was five minutes, he'd just head home. Vincent really had no idea of knowing if, or when, these men were supposed to show up. The only real lead he had was the captain of the French Police informing him that one of their ships had docked earlier. One would think time would be of the essence, especially since smuggling was starting to be take seriously. That's was the only reason Vincent was here tonight.

Big Ben chimed ten times, announcing the changing of the hour to the sleepy city. As the final note faded away into the darkness, Vincent stood. He decided he had stayed long enough. If something happened after his departure he refused to take responsibility for it. In his head, he was doing them a favor. He hadn't signed up for all this extra work, he just wanted to find out who killed his mother so he could continue on with his life. More or less. Vincent wouldn't admit it, but he enjoyed seeing 'The Phantom' plastered across newspapers and hearing whispers about the masked vigilante even if nobody (aside from a select few) knew who he was. It fed his ego, and Vincent was more than happy to hear people whispering about him in the shadows.

Hushed voices caught his attention, and Vincent dropped back down into a crouch, hesitantly peering over the edge of the tin roof as a small group approached. The short man in back looked around nervously, being new to the whole operation. He still hadn't managed to get rid of the jitters associated with doing this sort of work. "Are you sure nobody's watching?"

The pair in front continued walking, the one on the right rolled his eyes while the other one replied, "'Course not. The cops are stumbling around in the dark still. Boss says so."

He nodded, trying not to seem as anxious as he was and find comfort in his superiors words. It was easier said than done, but he remained quiet after that. The warehouse door creaked open on rusty hinges and the small group entered. They took inventory of everything that had been illegally imported on their ship earlier. Once everything had been accounted for several times, and they went over what was going to happen from there they left as suddenly as they had come, going their separate ways until the time came to pick up all their crates.

Silence fell on the streets again and Vincent dropped down to the ground. He took more care with opening the rusty door and slipped into the dim building unseen. Crates of varying sized filled the small space He didn't dare open one of them, and avoided the ones marked 'fragile' all together. He had a bad habit of breaking things that shouldn't have been manhandled. He stood almost in the center of the large room and looked around, trying to get a lay of the land and make the place less accessible in case they went in for a bust, The blacked out windows were far too high up to serve and purpose, so Vincent disregarded them. Instead he paid more attention to the back door and the metal loading door.

Rummaging in his pockets, Vincent found what he was looking for, a think piece of metal, and broke it off in the lock, jamming it. For further measure he threw some of the scattered about debris in front of it, covering it halfway in junk. It was easy enough once done, but now he was on to his next task. It took several more tires than he would like to admit, but Vincent managed to lodge one of his knives in the mechanism that raised and lowered the door, leaving it a useless sheet of metal.

He smirked to himself and took one last lap of the warehouse, wondering just what was being smuggled. Judging by the size of the crates, Vincent assumed it was something menial like works of art or things of that nature that were always being sold on the black market. Despite being the head field agent he really had no idea why he was doing what he was doing. Vincent didn't really care, and he didn't want to go through the trouble of reading the police reports. They were dry and pages of nothing but terms he didn't understand and he didn't want to waste his time learning them when he was trying to learn Chinese instead. given the influx of Chinese Immigrants of late, he figured it could do him some good sine he got around. And he wouldn't mind a trip there once all the fighting stopped.

Vincent stepped out into the moonlight again, and took a deep breath of fresh air. He shivered as cold air rolled off the ocean, and resolved to head back to his room for the evening. In the morning he could visit the Police Station then head back to England and show up back at his house just in time for afternoon tea.

Vincent folded himself into the chair across from Randall, glancing at the clock before asking, "any leads?"

Randall closed the door back, and shut the blinds before taking his place across from Vincent. He took a moment to polish his glasses then slowly replaced them. "Yes actually. Are you free tonight?"

"No. I have a previous social engagement. I'd hate to disappoint." Vincent was particularly fond of the idea of having to play the role of grieving son, but at the same time, he enjoyed having the young women, and a few men, eating out of the palm of his hand. He was going to start taking the necessary steps to returning to a normal life. Aside from all this Phantom business. After all, he didn't plan on keeping this up forever. He just wanted to figure out who had killed his mother and bring them to justice so he could have some sense of closure. How hard could it possibly be to find a man with red hair and sharp teeth? The city was big, but it wasn't that big.

Ignoring Vincent's cheeky smirk, Randall leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. He knew how flighty Vincent was. The young man had a habit of saying one thing and meaning something different. The same philosophy applied for his actions. Everything Vincent did contradicted something he had said or done He was a walking paradox. "Nevertheless, the warehouse you were watching last weekend proved to be the base of operations for another smuggling ring. We're going to have officers posted outside until they show up. That's when we'll take them down."

Vincent nodded thoughtfully. His trip to France hadn't been a complete bust and this was one of the few times the quarreling departments had managed to successfully work together. Namely because Vincent had the French Police Captain wrapped around his little finger. Whoever said flattery gets you nowhere obviously hadn't met Vincent. He was almost as bad as the Viscount Druitt. "Make sure they're in street clothes and actually out of sight. These guys aren't amateurs and...well most of your men are too hot in the ass when it comes to these sorts of things. Keep the puppies at home while the dogs do the real work."

He paused long enough to let Randall make some sort of comment if he wanted to, but when the older man said nothing he continued. "The back exit is still blocked if nothings been moved, the overhead door is rusted shut, but I broke the mechanism for good measure. The only way in and out are the windows and the front door. Keep that in mind. André will meet you at the docks with him."

The wooden chair scraped against the floor as Vincent stood. He redid a few buttons on the middle of his coat and added, "He likes to show up early. Maybe if you're lucky you can show up before he does."

Randall rolled his eyes and ignored Vincent's 'advice'. Only a small percentage of the things Vincent said with good intentions came out sounding like he was trying to be helpful. Just another thing to chalk up to his 'I do what I want attitude'. "Have fun at your party Vincent."

Vincent paused in the open doorway, trying to figure out if Randall was being sincere or not. "Thank you. Be safe old man. I don't think you want to pass the torch to Abberline yet."

After taking a moment to check the time, I adjusted the collar on my coat one last time and climbed out of the carriage. Just in time to be fashionably late. A select few people I spent time with would have had enough time to notice I wasn't there and others who lacked a certain fondness for me would have assumed I wasn't going to show up. In my defense I hadn't received the invitation until a few days ago. I hardly had enough time to get my jacket fixed. At least it gave me a chance to have a new outfit made.

I grabbed a white rose out of the vase in the hallway and tucked it into my breast pocket before entering the ballroom. A slow waltz was just beginning, but nobody seemed to be dancing yet. A space hadn't even been cleared in the center of the room. Perfect timing. "Vincent, welcome. I didn't think you'd show. I'm sorry to hear about your mother, she was a wonderful woman."

I turned towards where Baxter was standing. He was a small, feminine man, but he had bested me in nearly every sport we had played together. He was certainly a force to be reckoned with when he chose to be. He also wanted me to be one of his playthings. Our relationship was more out of convenience than anything else. We had shared a room at school and if it hadn't been for that, I didn't think we would have even bothered to acquaint ourselves. "Thank you. I suppose I'm going to be the only one wearing red now."

"It suits you." He paused and took a sip from glass before elbowing me. "Madeline is in the blue. She asked about you."

I smiled down at him and rested my arm on his head, "kindly piss off."

Baxter elbowed me in the ribs and danced just out of my reach. "I'm just helping a friend. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another friend to help."

After looking to a small group in the corner, I grabbed two glasses off a tray and made my way over to Madeline. Her friends spotted me first and fell silent. She turned, the light brown curls bouncing slightly and I dipped my head. "A little bird told me you needed a drink."

She smiled and took the glass from me. "I didn't think you would come!"

Her cheeks turned pink when I kissed her hand. "Nonsense. My mother always loved parties. She'd roll over in her grave if I didn't show up on her account."

One of her friends, Sarah if I recalled correctly, rested their hand on my arm and gently smiled up at me. "That's an honorable thing to do. I don't know what I'd do without my mother. We do everything together."

The third member, Annabelle, nodded in agreement, but didn't offer any input. She was the most humble out of the three. When Madeline wasn't around I much preferred her company to that of Sarah. She didn't try so hard to keep the attention focused on her. Especially when Sarah brought her sister along. "That reminds me, what do you think of all this phantom nonsense Vincent? To think the police have hired a vigilante to do their job. It's a shame really."

Annabelle brushed back some of her orange hair before carefully interjecting, "I don't think it's so bad. They aren't doing anything wrong."

I shrugged and glanced at the silent Madeline before replying, "it doesn't concern me one way or another. They're just some masked person running around trying to play hero. It isn't the first time someone has tried to do something like this, and it won't be the last. It'll all die out as soon as it started."

Madeline frowned next to me and explained, "I agree with Sarah. Maybe this is what the city needs. An impartial person to clean up everything. Although the Queen seems to think otherwise. I hear she's put your cousin in charge of catching him."

Sarah huffed in annoyance and placed her hands on her hips, chiding the others as if she was their mother. "You two have spent too much time with your head in the clouds. He's not some knight in shining armor." She quickly changed demeanor and turned, "has your cousin told you anything, Vincent?"

"I haven't seen him since the funeral actually. We weren't that close to begin with. So I doubt I'll be seeing him anytime soon."

Madeline took my half-empty glass from me and slipped her hand into mine as a different waltz started. "Dance with me."

Shots rang out from inside the warehouse as I approached. Glass shattered as a bullet pierced the glass, and large shards fell to the ground below. Just in time. The front door to the warehouse was thrown open and one of the smugglers came barreling out and slammed right into me. He fell back from the impact and stared up at me, reaching for his knife. Yanking him off the ground by the collar of his shirt, I slammed him against the wall and pinned his hands behind his back, thinking nothing of his pleas to let him go. André tore out of the darkness after him, only to stop short when seeing me and smiling. He glanced over my shoulder and into the warehouse where the rest of his men and Scotland Yard were dealing with the others. He handcuffed the man in front of me and shoved him back inside, closing the door back before stating in french, "It's about time you showed up. That man is insufferable. You're lucky I even bothered to show up. I should have left him on the boat."

"I'm quite happy you didn't. I am in your debt now. It looks like I have an excuse to come back sooner rather than later now."

He fell silent and took a step back as the door opened, and Abberline and several other officers emerged with handcuffed men. A few french officers trailed along behind them and the party was finally ended with Randall escorting out the leader. Him and André exchanged ruffled glares but didn't say anything. Randall chose to focus on me instead and asked, "I thought you weren't coming."

I shrugged. "I changed my mind. It looks like I showed up just in time." I gestured to the man being led away and smiled beneath my mask."

"He's quite hostile for an idiot. I know for a fact my men aren't the cause of my city's crime."

"He can't help it, he's old and his mind must be going."

André cracked a smile, but his enjoyment was short lived when Randall came back. He stood straighter and folded his arms over his chest, continuing on in English, "Thank you for the help. I am sure we can make some sort of arrangement in the future. After all, my people are quite impressed with this Phantom."

"I'm just happy that things went according to plan."

"I would be ecstatic if I didn't have to hear the word happy come out of either of your mouths for the rest of the night."

Randall fell silent and adjusted his glasses while André pouted and stated, "Don't be rude. Now you owe me twice."

"That number will go up in the near future, I assure you."

"Not too close I hope." He started following his men back to the station, taking with him a few of the men they had been looking for. Much to Randall's apparent delight we were the ones taking charge of the ring leader. "Safe travels."

Randall brushed past me, and left me standing there for a moment before I decided to follow. "Say, is it true my cousin's been tasked with unmasking me?"

He shrugged, slamming one of the carriage doors shut. "I wouldn't know. Where did you hear something like that."

"My previous social engagement."

"You can just say a party."

"That gets rid of the mystery surrounding it. And there are all sorts of parties. This was one of the interesting ones. Mostly."

He cleared his throat and steered me into the direction he wanted the conversation to go. "If that's the case, maybe you should lay low for awhile."

"Or, I can wait for my cousin to come over and we can argue in riddles like we always do and then I can lay low."

"Must you always wait until the last minute for everything"

I shrugged and started heading in the opposite direction. "It more fun that way. I like thinking on my feet."

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep thinking like that."


	4. Chapter 4

Why did I bother coming here again? Ciel remained ever silent at his place across from me. Normally he'd get right to the point, but today he was drawing things out. He was more concerned with his cake than getting me out of his hair. Word had spread like wildfire about his search for The Phantom, and as such, my duties around the police station had become quite limited. From time to time I would receive a private commission from Randall. They were mostly things that dealt with that gray area of the law. I did the work, and the police couldn't take the fall for any illegal happenings. Of course, they weren't really going to arrest me for anything I had done. The way I saw it, he still owed me. However, I was grateful for the lighter work load. The late nights had begun to take their toll on me; I did like to sometimes pretend I enjoyed being awake before nine.

Weak sunlight streamed in through the large windows next to me. Idly wrapping strands of my hair around my index finger, I sighed to myself as yet more clouds rolled in to blot out the once blue sky. The morning had shown promise for a relaxing, sunny day, but now I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining. Why must I always be stuck out in the rain? Am I being punished for something? "Vincent."

Ciel's sharp tone dragged me out of my thoughts and back into the now. For the time being at least. "What?"

He peered at me over the rim of his cup, taking his time returning it to its saucer before asking, "What do you make of all of this?"

I leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs as I absentmindedly explained, "if the sky gets any darker we'll have another storm on our hands."

Ciel's visible eye narrowed slightly and he glared at me. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Humming thoughtfully, I returned the chair to the floor and slumped forward. It was always fun to push Ciel's buttons. He enjoyed playing cat and mouse until the other party addressed the subject at hand. If he was in a particularly snippy mood he did the opposite and forced the information out of you by any means. Normally it took a quite a lot of provocation on my part to push him that far. "'This' used in such a vague context could refer to anything ranging from this wonderful little tea party to something as mundane as the weather. And I was just watching the clouds."

After taking a deep breath, he slowly restated his question. "This Phantom nonsense; you seem you seem to somehow keep up with these things more than I do."

"Perhaps if you were more active in your social obligations, you would. Mother always said the fastest way to get what you need to know is going to a party and talking to the prettiest girl or boy there." I flashed him and wide grin before adding, "Then again you can hardly do a proper Waltz. I lied. You are better off staying home."

Ciel propped his head up on his hand and poked disinterestedly at what remained of his cake, needing something to do other than think too hard about what I was telling him. "This is completely irrelevant to what I was asking."

I shrugged, tipping the chair back again. "I have nothing to say on the subject because it doesn't matter, in the long run at least, If the police hire a mercenary it's hardly any of my concern. What they do with their budget it's their business, There's a never ending stream of different opinions on the subject, go ask someone else."

He remained silent, the fork scraping against the plate with an obnoxious, grating sound. There was no way to be sure of how much he actually knew. But if he knew as much as me serving as the Phantom's mouthpiece, he might have been trying to see how loyal I was. Even then, just because I was doing something, it didn't matter if I didn't agree with what 'they' were doing. I wasn't exactly made of the strongest moral fibers. "Then why do you work for him… at least that's what I'm told." What else has he been 'told'?

"I'm out of school and, for the time being, I have nothing better to do. I do enjoy a good game as much as you, but I'd much prefer to play with people than wooden pieces on a board."

He halted he destructive fidgeting, irritation beginning to creep into his tone. "Who is he Vincent? You can make my job a lot easier."

The chair slammed onto the wooden floor and I leaned across the table. "Why would I want to do that? I don't like you, remember? Mother's not around to make sure we play nice anymore. Unless you need your butler to supervise you stuffing your face, then by all means," I waved my hand over the table, inviting him to say or do something other than sit there. I knew he wouldn't. I could beat him in a fight on any given day, we both knew that and unless Ciel had an out he wasn't about to challenge me to a physical fight. I wouldn't have minded giving him a black eye. Maybe then he wouldn't drag me all the way out here for such pointless things.

As if he had read my thoughts, he calmly replied, "You do realize you didn't have to come."

"No, I did. You would have shown up at my house otherwise, and I refuse to make tea for anyone other than myself." The chair scraped against the chair as I stood, filling the brief silence. "Now If you'll excuse me, I do have other things to do."

Ciel didn't say another word as I saw myself out. He just sat quietly and sipped his tea as if nothing had happened. I could feel his eye on me until the door had clicked shut behind me, the solid wood forming a barrier between us. He's up to something; I just don't know what.

The usual drink chatter filled the air, accompanied by glasses clinking together and celebratory, nonsensical chants. Dim lighting made it hard to tell apart most of the drunken patrons, but Vincent had been here long enough to know the man he was looking for wasn't here yet. Vincent sat alone in a table near the door. Not close enough enough for anyone walking to see him, but not far away enough for another group to come in a block his view. He nursed his watered down drink, wanting something to do with his hands, Vincent had almost forgotten what it felt like to be out drinking by himself. Normally he'd gather a small group of people from his house and they'd sneak away on a long weekend, or right after a big test, to the local pub.

Vincent ignored a pang of loneliness stabbing his chest, and tried to convince himself that he was better off doing this himself, repeating he was the only person in his group who wasn't a sloppy drunk and had enough sense to stop before they had reached their limit. I'm working. I don't need someone I spend time with knowing where I was tonight. Ciel hadn't spoken much to him since they had tea earlier in the week, but the less people who knew his whereabouts the better.

The minutes slowly ticked away as he idly sat, sipping watered down drinks and waiting for his intended target to enter. He had made sure to check the time and location several times before his departure, but there he was still sitting there almost half an hour after the designated meeting time, alone. He was debating whether or not he was going to call it quits when the door opened again, and he was graced with an unexpected, and all too familiar, presence.

At first he hadn't immediately recognized Sebastian. He hadn't ever seen him out of his typical butler uniform, nor had he expected to see him in a place like this. Vincent hadn't pegged Sebastian as the drinking type...or being social when he didn't have to. The man sent a chill up his spine on the warmest of days, and there was this strange sense of foreboding whenever he drew to near. Vincent wasn't the superstitious type, or one to think highly of the occult, but if he was, he might have figured out, or come close to, figuring out Sebastian's true nature.

Vincent slowly turned his back to the door and started tying his hair back. It was once in a blue moon when he actually did so; he figured it would make him less recognizable from behind. He was wrong.

Sebastian was on a quest of his own, and he didn't need Vincent knowing what it was. Upon seeing his master's relative his brow furrowed slightly. Between Finny accidentally knocking over one of the china cabinets, and Bardroy thinking a flame thrower was an appropriate kitchen utensil (yet again) Sebastian was running very short on patience. The last thing he wanted was Vincent running off and telling someone about what had happened, not that Vincent cared. He was still trying, and failing, to conceal his presence. "What are you doing here?"

Vincent slowly turned, propping his elbow up on the table to his his glass. "Hey Sebastian long time no see."

The butler frowned down at the man before him and didn't respond. Any desire to make small talk had evaporated when he had laid eyes on him.

Vincent took a small sip from his glass, and coughed as the amber liquid burned his throat before continuing. Not that there was much to say. "I didn't think you'd be spending your night off in a hole like this."

"I'm here for business, not pleasure."

"Never a dull moment with Ciel around, eh?" Vincent arched an eyebrow invitingly, but Sebastian didn't take the bait.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I really need a reason to be out on a night as nice as this."

Sebastian folded his arms over his chest, and Vincent shrunk back in his chair. "I'm meeting someone. Same as you. If you don't say anything to Ciel I might be… persuaded to forget this whole thing never happened."

"Is that a threat?"

"Far from it. I only threaten those who I could beat in a fight. It's a friendly suggestion as an acquaintance."

Sebastian glanced around, not lingering on any one person for too long. He still had time before he needed to make his move. "Don't these arrangements usually prove beneficial to me as well?"

"While I don't have this city as completely wired as you do, that doesn't mean I don't have eyes here and there. I am my mother's son."

Vincent's attempt at subtle intimidation went unnoticed. He wasn't nearly as convincing as he thought he was. "I'll pass."

Latching on to the butler's sleeve, Vincent held him in place for the time being. "Wait, please. Don't say anything. I'm not working for them, okay? Ciel doesn't need to know."

Sebastian didn't have the slightest intention of informing his master of this little encounter in the first place. He got a large amount of pleasure from watching the little brat struggle with coming up with answers himself. Even if Vincent hadn't asked, it wouldn't change his mind, but now he was entitled to a favor from him. After a long pause, Sebastian concluded, "You owe me."

Vincent eagerly nodded, and released Sebastian's sleeve before the taller man could change his mind. Sebastian went to charm the bartender, since they tended to be the eyes and ears of any location, leaving Vincent to return to his wallowing (not that he would admit it).

After draining the contents of his glass, Vincent decided to move his operations outside. The fresh air would do him some good and he would have the opportunity to corner his target without too many witnesses. Vincent hadn't intended on doing anything illegal, but he didn't want word to spread too far that he was in 'contact' with the city's masked vigilante.

Vincent found himself lingering on Ciel's brightly lit porch, finding any and every excuse to show up a few seconds later to his cousin's dinner party. He had done everything from straightening his collar to reciting the German alphabet, multiple times. There wasn't much left to keep him mentally occupied besides taking a walk through the front green, but it was dark, and he didn't know what was lurking in the woods out here,

As Vincent swallowed his resolve, the front door opened and the newest edition to the Phantomhive staff poked his head outside. He shivered in the cold air, but opened the door wider upon seeing Vincent standing there, and motioned him inside with a well rehearsed, "Welcome." The snake on his shoulder hissed softly, then he continued, "We've been waiting for you: says Emily,"

"Thank you, I hope I'm not too late." He stepped around the scrawny boy and glanced around the empty foyer. The rush of cold air behind him stilled. Voices drifted down the hallway, but after being distorted by the thick walls, the droning was too muddled to be pick out individual voices.

The snake mostly hidden in the boys tail coat hissed again before he spoke. "No, we haven't even started yet. Everyone is still in the drawing room: says Emily."

"I can find my way from here."

After a few moments, Snake dipped his head and returned to setting the table, leaving Vincent to linger in the empty room until he felt it necessary to make his presence known. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked off the seconds with each swing of its large pendulum. He was just in time to be fashionably late, so after straightening his jacket one final time, he made his way down the hall to where his cousin had decided to receive everyone.

Several of the higher ups from Scotland Yard (including Arthur) were gathered off to the side. For the sake of appearances, they ignored each other, not that there was really anything to say anyway. They still had their mostly secret meetings. To get a few work related things out of the way in one go, Ciel had invited several of his trading partners. Lau was also sitting with his sister, a necessary and unnecessary addition to the festivities. Elizabeth was also in attendance and she had managed to 'convince' Ciel to let her invite some of her friends. It was that, or she got to pick Ciel's outfit, and he had had enough of frills to last him a lifetime.

Elizabeth noticed Vincent before Ciel had, considering he seemed to be in a fairly heated discussion about the direction his latest branch was going, and excused herself from her small group to greet him.

Vincent smiled as she approached, ready to get on every one of Ciel's nerves before he even said hello. He made a point to be extra humble and charming with Lizzy. His intentions could be perceived as flirtatious, but seeing she only had eyes for Ciel, his attempts were wasted on her. He knew that, but Ciel was very protective of his finance and as such, he didn't like the idea of Vincent doing anything that could hold her attention for more than a few minutes.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together in excitement, chattering away a mile a minute, barely stopping to breathe. "...I'm so happy you came! You look quite well."

Vincent held her gaze and brought one of her smaller hands to his lips before calmly replying, "Of course I came. I would never pass up an opportunity to lay my eyes on something as beautiful as you."

Lizzy beamed and took a step back, doing a small twirl to show off her lacy, light pink dress. "Isn't it magnificent? Nina had it made for me." Her bright green eyes roamed over Vincent's tall frame, clad in tight black pants and a burgundy overcoat and pouted. For now she couldn't dress Ciel, so she was going to redirect her creative energy into Vincent (who never said no to her). "It would do you good if you went to see her as well Vincent. You're no better than Ciel, don't you have anything less gloomy in your closet."

Vincent chuckled and paused thoughtfully, "I wore white once."

Lizzy huffed and playfully smacked his arm, chiding, "That doesn't count! You only wore white because your mother didn't."

Vincent paused again, trying to seem lost in thought, when he had every intention of pacifying her. She always got what she wanted, one way or another. "Then pick a color, any color, and I shall put in a request."

Lizzy's eyes widened in excitement, and she tightly grasped his larger hands in her own as if she was expecting him to flee. "You mean it?!"

"Of course, would I lie to you?"

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to figure out what would best suit him. Eventually she came to settle on, "Purple."

Silently challenging her choice, he arched an eyebrow and tilted his chin up. Lizzy hummed to herself and nodded firmly, taking the flower from his coat before confirming, "it's what I want."

Ciel came up behind Lizzy and protectively draped an arm around her waist. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Vincent smirked, looking down on his shorter rival before asking, "why would I turn down an opportunity to spend time with my favorite cousin?"

Ciel frowned, his visible eye narrowing as he coaxed Lizzy back a few steps. "Given how stubborn you are, I've come to expect the least from you."

"You wouldn't have invited me if you knew I wasn't going to bother coming."

Ciel opened his mouth to respond, but Lizzy interjected before they could leap at each other's throats. "Ciel don't be mean. He's our guest. You must treat him with respect no matter how much you may dislike him." She paused for a fraction of a second before she blurted out something about meeting her friends and whisked away her disgruntled betrothed.

Vincent propped himself up against the wall and cast another glance around the room. There wasn't much to see, but he wasn't up for mingling. The only reason he came was because Ciel rarely invited him to one of his parties. He wanted to make sure he remembered why.

After slipping away from Lizzy's group, Ciel took a deep breath and made his way over to where Randall and his men were standing. Vincent waited a few moments for Ciel to redirect the conversation before joining them. As an unofficial informant, he felt his presence was needed. Vincent had a feeling this was a lot more than some business party. Ciel always had a reason for doing things, and it was no secret he held no fondness for London's finest. "Can you explain to me why you find it so important that you work with the very man I'm trying to catch?"

Creeping up behind his cousin, Vincent rested his arm on Ciel's shoulder and offered, "Who says it's a man?"

"Are you implying that I should be looking for a woman?"

Vincent shrugged, neither confirming or denying Ciel's suspicions. "I never said that. But women are quite driven these days."

"If you aren't going to help, leave. I don't have time to deal with your foolishness."

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

Ciel shoved Vincent back as few steps to put some distance between them. He could feel the blood vessels in his forehead tightening as he struggled to remain calm. Vincent knew exactly what he was doing and Ciel fell into his trap each time. The small boy huffed and sharply retorted, "You are obstructing direct orders from Her Majesty The Queen. If you really wish to continue down this path of self destruction who am I to stop you? I think it's high time someone else took your place as Police Commissioner anyway."

Light menacingly reflected off Randall's glasses as he adjusted them. Vincent wasn't the only one who had come prepared tonight. He wasn't going to let Ciel's brazen tactics weren't going to shake his nerves. Instead, he had every intention of redirecting Ciel's efforts onto Vincent. He had gotten himself into this mess, and he was the one who should have had to deal with it, not Randall. If anyone was going to lie through their teeth and sound convincing it was him. "I have never been in direct contact with them. They do what they want and Vincent reports back to me. If you have a problem with anyone here, it's him, not me."

Vincent rolled his eyes and cast a disinterested glance around the anxious faces of London's finest. He shifted his weight to one leg and folded his arms over his chest before launching his own defense. "I have nothing to say. The day I help him is the day I dig my own grave."

"I can have that arranged if you keep this up."

Feigning shock, Vincent gasped and asked, "why Ciel, is that a threat? Are you threatening my life in front of all these police officers."

"You can dig a grave prematurely."

Lizzy bounded over with her groups of friends, the bunch whispering and giggling amongst each other at a secret only they knew. Ciel pretended not to notice their approach, or Vincent clearing a path for them to come say hello. After some deliberation, Lizzy stepped forward, her eyes glittering as she tried her hand at playing up her cuteness. "What can you tell us about the phantom?"

Before Randall could make something up about it being classified information, Ciel turned to her and scoffed, "Why would you want to waste your time with something like that? He's a criminal who needs to be caught."

Lizzy's cheeks reddened as she frowned and wrapped her hands around Ciel's arm. "You're only saying that because the Queen said so!" Trying to further her cause, she then asked Vincent what he thought. Only he was even less help since he just said something vague and unassuming. "For now they aren't doing anything wrong, so I suppose I have nothing to say against them so long as other people don't try copying them. What's important is the people seem to finally be placing more of their trust in the police. Maybe now we can actually take steps towards making the city a safer place than before. That's what counts right?"

One of Lizzy's friends nodded in agreement and latched onto Vincent's arm. She giggled when he glanced down at her, a friendly smile on his lips as she spoke. "Vincent, you're so smart!"

"My mother was a doctor, I thank her for my brains."

Ciel tried to discreetly check the time and mumbled to himself. "or lack of."

Lizzy pouted, turning the full force of her steady gaze on his as she chided, "you shouldn't speak ill of the dead Ciel."

"What are they going to do? Come back and haunt me?"

Vincent leaned forward and dropped his voice to a menacing purr. "Maybe they already have. You do have an unfortunately long list of bad luck, wouldn't you think? Perhaps you're already cursed."

Ciel smirked, finding some amount of truth to his words. He had sold his soul to Sebastian after all; not that there was any way his cousin could have figured out. "Maybe you're right, Vincent."

Caught off guard by his cousin's almost sincere reaction, Vincent's eyes widened slightly, and he took a fraction of a step back. The door opened behind them, putting an end to the conversation. Sebastian bowed when Ciel turned to him and humbly announced, "Pardon the interruption, but dinner is served."


	5. Chapter 5

Why did I bother coming here again? Ciel remained ever silent at his place across from me. Normally he'd get right to the point, but today he was drawing things out. He was more concerned with his cake than getting me out of his hair. Word had spread like wildfire about his search for The Phantom, and as such, my duties around the police station had become quite limited. From time to time I would receive a private commission from Randall. They were mostly things that dealt with that gray area of the law. I did the work, and the police couldn't take the fall for any illegal happenings. Of course, they weren't really going to arrest me for anything I had done. The way I saw it, he still owed me. However, I was grateful for the lighter work load. The late nights had begun to take their toll on me; I did like to sometimes pretend I enjoyed being awake before nine.

Weak sunlight streamed in through the large windows next to me. Idly wrapping strands of my hair around my index finger, I sighed to myself as yet more clouds rolled in to blot out the once blue sky. The morning had shown promise for a relaxing, sunny day, but now I wouldn't be surprised if it started raining. Why must I always be stuck out in the rain? Am I being punished for something? "Vincent."

Ciel's sharp tone dragged me out of my thoughts and back into the now. For the time being at least. "What?"

He peered at me over the rim of his cup, taking his time returning it to its saucer before asking, "What do you make of all of this?"

I leaned back in the chair, balancing it on two legs as I absentmindedly explained, "if the sky gets any darker we'll have another storm on our hands."

Ciel's visible eye narrowed slightly and he glared at me. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Humming thoughtfully, I returned the chair to the floor and slumped forward. It was always fun to push Ciel's buttons. He enjoyed playing cat and mouse until the other party addressed the subject at hand. If he was in a particularly snippy mood he did the opposite and forced the information out of you by any means. Normally it took a quite a lot of provocation on my part to push him that far. "'This' used in such a vague context could refer to anything ranging from this wonderful little tea party to something as mundane as the weather. And I was just watching the clouds."

After taking a deep breath, he slowly restated his question. "This Phantom nonsense; you seem you seem to somehow keep up with these things more than I do."

"Perhaps if you were more active in your social obligations, you would. Mother always said the fastest way to get what you need to know is going to a party and talking to the prettiest girl or boy there." I flashed him and wide grin before adding, "Then again you can hardly do a proper Waltz. I lied. You are better off staying home."

Ciel propped his head up on his hand and poked disinterestedly at what remained of his cake, needing something to do other than think too hard about what I was telling him. "This is completely irrelevant to what I was asking."

I shrugged, tipping the chair back again. "I have nothing to say on the subject because it doesn't matter, in the long run at least, If the police hire a mercenary it's hardly any of my concern. What they do with their budget it's their business, There's a never ending stream of different opinions on the subject, go ask someone else."

He remained silent, the fork scraping against the plate with an obnoxious, grating sound. There was no way to be sure of how much he actually knew. But if he knew as much as me serving as the Phantom's mouthpiece, he might have been trying to see how loyal I was. Even then, just because I was doing something, it didn't matter if I didn't agree with what 'they' were doing. I wasn't exactly made of the strongest moral fibers. "Then why do you work for him… at least that's what I'm told." What else has he been 'told'?

"I'm out of school and, for the time being, I have nothing better to do. I do enjoy a good game as much as you, but I'd much prefer to play with people than wooden pieces on a board."

He halted he destructive fidgeting, irritation beginning to creep into his tone. "Who is he Vincent? You can make my job a lot easier."

The chair slammed onto the wooden floor and I leaned across the table. "Why would I want to do that? I don't like you, remember? Mother's not around to make sure we play nice anymore. Unless you need your butler to supervise you stuffing your face, then by all means," I waved my hand over the table, inviting him to say or do something other than sit there. I knew he wouldn't. I could beat him in a fight on any given day, we both knew that and unless Ciel had an out he wasn't about to challenge me to a physical fight. I wouldn't have minded giving him a black eye. Maybe then he wouldn't drag me all the way out here for such pointless things.

As if he had read my thoughts, he calmly replied, "You do realize you didn't have to come."

"No, I did. You would have shown up at my house otherwise, and I refuse to make tea for anyone other than myself." The chair scraped against the chair as I stood, filling the brief silence. "Now If you'll excuse me, I do have other things to do."

Ciel didn't say another word as I saw myself out. He just sat quietly and sipped his tea as if nothing had happened. I could feel his eye on me until the door had clicked shut behind me, the solid wood forming a barrier between us. He's up to something; I just don't know what.

The usual drink chatter filled the air, accompanied by glasses clinking together and celebratory, nonsensical chants. Dim lighting made it hard to tell apart most of the drunken patrons, but Vincent had been here long enough to know the man he was looking for wasn't here yet. Vincent sat alone in a table near the door. Not close enough enough for anyone walking to see him, but not far away enough for another group to come in a block his view. He nursed his watered down drink, wanting something to do with his hands, Vincent had almost forgotten what it felt like to be out drinking by himself. Normally he'd gather a small group of people from his house and they'd sneak away on a long weekend, or right after a big test, to the local pub.

Vincent ignored a pang of loneliness stabbing his chest, and tried to convince himself that he was better off doing this himself, repeating he was the only person in his group who wasn't a sloppy drunk and had enough sense to stop before they had reached their limit. I'm working. I don't need someone I spend time with knowing where I was tonight. Ciel hadn't spoken much to him since they had tea earlier in the week, but the less people who knew his whereabouts the better.

The minutes slowly ticked away as he idly sat, sipping watered down drinks and waiting for his intended target to enter. He had made sure to check the time and location several times before his departure, but there he was still sitting there almost half an hour after the designated meeting time, alone. He was debating whether or not he was going to call it quits when the door opened again, and he was graced with an unexpected, and all too familiar, presence.

At first he hadn't immediately recognized Sebastian. He hadn't ever seen him out of his typical butler uniform, nor had he expected to see him in a place like this. Vincent hadn't pegged Sebastian as the drinking type...or being social when he didn't have to. The man sent a chill up his spine on the warmest of days, and there was this strange sense of foreboding whenever he drew to near. Vincent wasn't the superstitious type, or one to think highly of the occult, but if he was, he might have figured out, or come close to, figuring out Sebastian's true nature.

Vincent slowly turned his back to the door and started tying his hair back. It was once in a blue moon when he actually did so; he figured it would make him less recognizable from behind. He was wrong.

Sebastian was on a quest of his own, and he didn't need Vincent knowing what it was. Upon seeing his master's relative his brow furrowed slightly. Between Finny accidentally knocking over one of the china cabinets, and Bardroy thinking a flame thrower was an appropriate kitchen utensil (yet again) Sebastian was running very short on patience. The last thing he wanted was Vincent running off and telling someone about what had happened, not that Vincent cared. He was still trying, and failing, to conceal his presence. "What are you doing here?"

Vincent slowly turned, propping his elbow up on the table to his his glass. "Hey Sebastian long time no see."

The butler frowned down at the man before him and didn't respond. Any desire to make small talk had evaporated when he had laid eyes on him.

Vincent took a small sip from his glass, and coughed as the amber liquid burned his throat before continuing. Not that there was much to say. "I didn't think you'd be spending your night off in a hole like this."

"I'm here for business, not pleasure."

"Never a dull moment with Ciel around, eh?" Vincent arched an eyebrow invitingly, but Sebastian didn't take the bait.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I really need a reason to be out on a night as nice as this."

Sebastian folded his arms over his chest, and Vincent shrunk back in his chair. "I'm meeting someone. Same as you. If you don't say anything to Ciel I might be… persuaded to forget this whole thing never happened."

"Is that a threat?"

"Far from it. I only threaten those who I could beat in a fight. It's a friendly suggestion as an acquaintance."

Sebastian glanced around, not lingering on any one person for too long. He still had time before he needed to make his move. "Don't these arrangements usually prove beneficial to me as well?"

"While I don't have this city as completely wired as you do, that doesn't mean I don't have eyes here and there. I am my mother's son."

Vincent's attempt at subtle intimidation went unnoticed. He wasn't nearly as convincing as he thought he was. "I'll pass."

Latching on to the butler's sleeve, Vincent held him in place for the time being. "Wait, please. Don't say anything. I'm not working for them, okay? Ciel doesn't need to know."

Sebastian didn't have the slightest intention of informing his master of this little encounter in the first place. He got a large amount of pleasure from watching the little brat struggle with coming up with answers himself. Even if Vincent hadn't asked, it wouldn't change his mind, but now he was entitled to a favor from him. After a long pause, Sebastian concluded, "You owe me."

Vincent eagerly nodded, and released Sebastian's sleeve before the taller man could change his mind. Sebastian went to charm the bartender, since they tended to be the eyes and ears of any location, leaving Vincent to return to his wallowing (not that he would admit it).

After draining the contents of his glass, Vincent decided to move his operations outside. The fresh air would do him some good and he would have the opportunity to corner his target without too many witnesses. Vincent hadn't intended on doing anything illegal, but he didn't want word to spread too far that he was in 'contact' with the city's masked vigilante.

Vincent found himself lingering on Ciel's brightly lit porch, finding any and every excuse to show up a few seconds later to his cousin's dinner party. He had done everything from straightening his collar to reciting the German alphabet, multiple times. There wasn't much left to keep him mentally occupied besides taking a walk through the front green, but it was dark, and he didn't know what was lurking in the woods out here,

As Vincent swallowed his resolve, the front door opened and the newest edition to the Phantomhive staff poked his head outside. He shivered in the cold air, but opened the door wider upon seeing Vincent standing there, and motioned him inside with a well rehearsed, "Welcome." The snake on his shoulder hissed softly, then he continued, "We've been waiting for you: says Emily,"

"Thank you, I hope I'm not too late." He stepped around the scrawny boy and glanced around the empty foyer. The rush of cold air behind him stilled. Voices drifted down the hallway, but after being distorted by the thick walls, the droning was too muddled to be pick out individual voices.

The snake mostly hidden in the boys tail coat hissed again before he spoke. "No, we haven't even started yet. Everyone is still in the drawing room: says Emily."

"I can find my way from here."

After a few moments, Snake dipped his head and returned to setting the table, leaving Vincent to linger in the empty room until he felt it necessary to make his presence known. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked off the seconds with each swing of its large pendulum. He was just in time to be fashionably late, so after straightening his jacket one final time, he made his way down the hall to where his cousin had decided to receive everyone.

Several of the higher ups from Scotland Yard (including Arthur) were gathered off to the side. For the sake of appearances, they ignored each other, not that there was really anything to say anyway. They still had their mostly secret meetings. To get a few work related things out of the way in one go, Ciel had invited several of his trading partners. Lau was also sitting with his sister, a necessary and unnecessary addition to the festivities. Elizabeth was also in attendance and she had managed to 'convince' Ciel to let her invite some of her friends. It was that, or she got to pick Ciel's outfit, and he had had enough of frills to last him a lifetime.

Elizabeth noticed Vincent before Ciel had, considering he seemed to be in a fairly heated discussion about the direction his latest branch was going, and excused herself from her small group to greet him.

Vincent smiled as she approached, ready to get on every one of Ciel's nerves before he even said hello. He made a point to be extra humble and charming with Lizzy. His intentions could be perceived as flirtatious, but seeing she only had eyes for Ciel, his attempts were wasted on her. He knew that, but Ciel was very protective of his finance and as such, he didn't like the idea of Vincent doing anything that could hold her attention for more than a few minutes.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together in excitement, chattering away a mile a minute, barely stopping to breathe. "...I'm so happy you came! You look quite well."

Vincent held her gaze and brought one of her smaller hands to his lips before calmly replying, "Of course I came. I would never pass up an opportunity to lay my eyes on something as beautiful as you."

Lizzy beamed and took a step back, doing a small twirl to show off her lacy, light pink dress. "Isn't it magnificent? Nina had it made for me." Her bright green eyes roamed over Vincent's tall frame, clad in tight black pants and a burgundy overcoat and pouted. For now she couldn't dress Ciel, so she was going to redirect her creative energy into Vincent (who never said no to her). "It would do you good if you went to see her as well Vincent. You're no better than Ciel, don't you have anything less gloomy in your closet."

Vincent chuckled and paused thoughtfully, "I wore white once."

Lizzy huffed and playfully smacked his arm, chiding, "That doesn't count! You only wore white because your mother didn't."

Vincent paused again, trying to seem lost in thought, when he had every intention of pacifying her. She always got what she wanted, one way or another. "Then pick a color, any color, and I shall put in a request."

Lizzy's eyes widened in excitement, and she tightly grasped his larger hands in her own as if she was expecting him to flee. "You mean it?!"

"Of course, would I lie to you?"

Her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to figure out what would best suit him. Eventually she came to settle on, "Purple."

Silently challenging her choice, he arched an eyebrow and tilted his chin up. Lizzy hummed to herself and nodded firmly, taking the flower from his coat before confirming, "it's what I want."

Ciel came up behind Lizzy and protectively draped an arm around her waist. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Vincent smirked, looking down on his shorter rival before asking, "why would I turn down an opportunity to spend time with my favorite cousin?"

Ciel frowned, his visible eye narrowing as he coaxed Lizzy back a few steps. "Given how stubborn you are, I've come to expect the least from you."

"You wouldn't have invited me if you knew I wasn't going to bother coming."

Ciel opened his mouth to respond, but Lizzy interjected before they could leap at each other's throats. "Ciel don't be mean. He's our guest. You must treat him with respect no matter how much you may dislike him." She paused for a fraction of a second before she blurted out something about meeting her friends and whisked away her disgruntled betrothed.

Vincent propped himself up against the wall and cast another glance around the room. There wasn't much to see, but he wasn't up for mingling. The only reason he came was because Ciel rarely invited him to one of his parties. He wanted to make sure he remembered why.

After slipping away from Lizzy's group, Ciel took a deep breath and made his way over to where Randall and his men were standing. Vincent waited a few moments for Ciel to redirect the conversation before joining them. As an unofficial informant, he felt his presence was needed. Vincent had a feeling this was a lot more than some business party. Ciel always had a reason for doing things, and it was no secret he held no fondness for London's finest. "Can you explain to me why you find it so important that you work with the very man I'm trying to catch?"

Creeping up behind his cousin, Vincent rested his arm on Ciel's shoulder and offered, "Who says it's a man?"

"Are you implying that I should be looking for a woman?"

Vincent shrugged, neither confirming or denying Ciel's suspicions. "I never said that. But women are quite driven these days."

"If you aren't going to help, leave. I don't have time to deal with your foolishness."

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

Ciel shoved Vincent back as few steps to put some distance between them. He could feel the blood vessels in his forehead tightening as he struggled to remain calm. Vincent knew exactly what he was doing and Ciel fell into his trap each time. The small boy huffed and sharply retorted, "You are obstructing direct orders from Her Majesty The Queen. If you really wish to continue down this path of self destruction who am I to stop you? I think it's high time someone else took your place as Police Commissioner anyway."

Light menacingly reflected off Randall's glasses as he adjusted them. Vincent wasn't the only one who had come prepared tonight. He wasn't going to let Ciel's brazen tactics weren't going to shake his nerves. Instead, he had every intention of redirecting Ciel's efforts onto Vincent. He had gotten himself into this mess, and he was the one who should have had to deal with it, not Randall. If anyone was going to lie through their teeth and sound convincing it was him. "I have never been in direct contact with them. They do what they want and Vincent reports back to me. If you have a problem with anyone here, it's him, not me."

Vincent rolled his eyes and cast a disinterested glance around the anxious faces of London's finest. He shifted his weight to one leg and folded his arms over his chest before launching his own defense. "I have nothing to say. The day I help him is the day I dig my own grave."

"I can have that arranged if you keep this up."

Feigning shock, Vincent gasped and asked, "why Ciel, is that a threat? Are you threatening my life in front of all these police officers."

"You can dig a grave prematurely."

Lizzy bounded over with her groups of friends, the bunch whispering and giggling amongst each other at a secret only they knew. Ciel pretended not to notice their approach, or Vincent clearing a path for them to come say hello. After some deliberation, Lizzy stepped forward, her eyes glittering as she tried her hand at playing up her cuteness. "What can you tell us about the phantom?"

Before Randall could make something up about it being classified information, Ciel turned to her and scoffed, "Why would you want to waste your time with something like that? He's a criminal who needs to be caught."

Lizzy's cheeks reddened as she frowned and wrapped her hands around Ciel's arm. "You're only saying that because the Queen said so!" Trying to further her cause, she then asked Vincent what he thought. Only he was even less help since he just said something vague and unassuming. "For now they aren't doing anything wrong, so I suppose I have nothing to say against them so long as other people don't try copying them. What's important is the people seem to finally be placing more of their trust in the police. Maybe now we can actually take steps towards making the city a safer place than before. That's what counts right?"

One of Lizzy's friends nodded in agreement and latched onto Vincent's arm. She giggled when he glanced down at her, a friendly smile on his lips as she spoke. "Vincent, you're so smart!"

"My mother was a doctor, I thank her for my brains."

Ciel tried to discreetly check the time and mumbled to himself. "or lack of."

Lizzy pouted, turning the full force of her steady gaze on his as she chided, "you shouldn't speak ill of the dead Ciel."

"What are they going to do? Come back and haunt me?"

Vincent leaned forward and dropped his voice to a menacing purr. "Maybe they already have. You do have an unfortunately long list of bad luck, wouldn't you think? Perhaps you're already cursed."

Ciel smirked, finding some amount of truth to his words. He had sold his soul to Sebastian after all; not that there was any way his cousin could have figured out. "Maybe you're right, Vincent."

Caught off guard by his cousin's almost sincere reaction, Vincent's eyes widened slightly, and he took a fraction of a step back. The door opened behind them, putting an end to the conversation. Sebastian bowed when Ciel turned to him and humbly announced, "Pardon the interruption, but dinner is served."


	6. A red dance

Vincent gazed after the woman as she was whisked away by Sebastian, still unsure of what he was supposed to make of her. A sense of familiarity threatened to overwhelm him as he stood there in a daze. How could he manage to forget someone like that? Even if Vincent hadn't had the chance to properly introduce himself, he was almost positive eh would have at least gotten her name. Aside from his mother, Vincent could recall a single woman he had come across with such vibrant hair and outlandish fashion choices. Wait a minute...that coat!

The realization dawned on Vincent that his elusive dance partner had been wearing a coat that bore a striking resemblance to the one his mother had always worn. Of course there was no way to be entirely sure that it was the same coat, Nina had been the one to make it, and Vincent had no way of knowing if she reused her designs. But Vincent couldn't seem to find the garment anywhere he had looked since that night.

Once the initial shock faded, Vincent willed his body into motion. He flung the ballroom doors open and stood in the empty hallway, intently looking to his left and right. Several sideways glances were thrown his way, and once the heavy doors had closed the gossip picked up right where it had left off. Without a soul in sight, Vincent was nearly tempted to stand there and wait for her return, but he had no way of knowing how long she would be gone, or if she even intended to come back at all. Vincent didn't know how well the woman knew Sebastian, but given her eagerness to followed, he assumed they were close. Panic clawed its way to the surface when Vincent realized he might never be able to find her again. Without so much as a name to go off of, he might as well have been trying to find a needle in a haystack. All he wanted was a reason why she felt the need to rip his mother out of this world. It was a little late in the game to turn her over to the police, there was no way for him to explain bringing her to justice without giving himself away. Why does this have to happen now?

The ballroom doors opened once again. Abberline hesitantly poked his head out into the hallway, until he laid eyes on Vincent and approached. The masked man turned to the young detective and waited for him to put his thoughts together. "Why are you here?"

Vincent shrugged, his eyes darting to the ballroom before he took a few steps back. "I could ask you the same thing." An awkward silence fell between the two. With Vincent feeling particularly non-compliant and Abberline already said what he needed too. Eventually Vincent gave in to Abberline's persistent presence. "This is it for me."

There was a hint of sadness in Vincent's voice. For a brief moment, Abberline assumed the young man was going to do something drastic. Vincent sharply exhaled, rolling his eyes as the young detective's eagerness to jump the gun. "Not that. I mean this," Vincent threw his cape out behind him for a dramatic flare. Abberline breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing. "It's time. I've done what I needed to. If I keep this up, it will only end up being more effort than it's worth. Besides, I'm not really gaining anything from this."

Abberline nodded in agreement. He had been hesitant about taking Vincent on since the get go. Knowing he would be returning to his normal life brought him a sense of relief. Vincent had plenty of time to go be a hero in his own way. Hopefully, it wouldn't involve something as drastic as this. Vincent would get off Scot-free. "I can't say I blame you. However, you have been a big help, thank you."

"I'd stick around a little longer if I were you. Something tells me this isn't going to be some dull party."

Abberline nodded again, watching Vincent as he made his way deeper into the house. The timid detective returned to the others, more specifically his fianceé. Once he was sure the detective was gone, Vincent let out a sigh, and let his shoulders slump. For the time being, wandering through this house was the only good idea he seemed to have floating around in his jumbled head.

He didn't expect much from his wandering, but he kept an ear out for anything regardless. After several detours, Vincent ended up where he had began with no new leads, discouraged and defeated. Try as he might, thoughts that put him in blame for this mess surfaced. They nagged him, blaming him for not having noticed until it was too late. How could he not recognize the coat his mother had been wearing practically every day for years? Why did he let her go so easily? It was obvious she was up to something. Her presence had been as disruptive as his! I hadn't been expecting to see it, that's all.Pressing his back against a wall, Vincent covered his masked face with his gloved hands, trying to quell his rising frustration. After a few deep breaths he was able to quell most of his rising anger.

Hopelessness grabbed hold of Vincent, insisting he shouldn't be too surprised if he never saw her again. Why did I think I could pull this off? No sane person would even consider this an option. His eyes drifted shut while he chuckled to himself,with a family like this you have to be a few jacks short of a full deck.

Vincent reluctantly opened his eyes again, unwilling to set his body in motion again. Fatigue slowly started to creep over him, and he decided it was time for him to depart. Having already done what he came here for, he saw no point in returning to the others. Hell, as far as they were concerned, he had already left with the strange, red haired woman. Vincent peeled himself away from the wall and rolled his shoulders a few times, thankful for the dull ache in his muscles subsiding. At least I drove Ciel into a rage. He's never going to live this one down. "Leaving so soon, Vincent?"

The masked man froze in his tracks, when Sebastian's deep voice carried to his ears. Panic briefly threatened to overwhelm him, and as a result, Vincent couldn't come up with a response immediately. The gears in his head had come to a grinding halt. Try as he might, nothing would throw them into motion again. You've been standing there too long! There's no way you're going to talk yourself out of this one! Slowly turning, Vincent tried his hardest to be the opposite of his true self. The etiquette lessons his mother had put him through when he was younger were finally paying off. Despite having protested with every fiber of his being, he recalled every bit of information with ease. "I believe you have mistaken me for someone else." He paused, letting his sentence hang there for several minutes before, deciding to ask, "Are you acquainted with my…friend?"

If Sebastian had been a little more dense, maybe he would have bought Vincent's elaborate display, but he knew the boy too well. "I am never wrong in these situations, Vincent."

"Well, butler, I assure you that I have not had the pleasure of acquainting myself with you, or anyone else here for that matter, prior to this evening. You have me confused with someone else."

Sebastian took a step froward, driving the unprepared Vincent back, until he had pinned himself against a low standing table sticking out of an alcove, and the wall. "You may have everyone else here fooled, but it's going to take a lot more than a grand display to pull the wool over my eyes. You vastly underestimate me."

Vincent pressed his back against the wall, trying in vain to escape from Sebastian's penetrating gaze. Vincent's blood ran cold at the thought of the butler being the one to bring him to justice. Some unforeseen 'accident' was bound to happen between now and the time it took for him to present him to Ciel. At this point, he was out of options, and instead of blatantly denying what they both knew to be true, Vincent tried a different approach. Namely changing the subject. "Where did she go?"

A deep crease marred Sebastian's furrowed brow. The butler visibly grew tense and agitated. The mere mention of the woman in red was enough to drive him into a silent rage. Sebastian was all too familiar with the phrase 'speak of the devil and he shall come'. In his opinion, Grell was the embodiment of it. For someone who prided himself on his femininity and gracefulness, the troublesome reaper knew how to make a mess out of everything and anything. Sebastian was certainly in no hurry for him to make another appearance.

Vincent hastily cleared his throat, trying, and failing, to inch his was around Sebastian. If he had known the mysterious woman was going to be such a sensitive topic, he wouldn't have bothered bringing it up in the first place. Sebastian was the last person Vincent wanted to be the bad side of.

"As far as I'm concerned, that thing is no longer my problem." Sebastian's words were clipped, and had a sharp edge to them, leaving Vincent with a bad impression. Even by Sebastian's standards, he though it was cold of the butler to refer to her as a 'thing', but he kept his mouth shut. This wasn't a can of worms he was prepared to open and deal with.

Vincent opened his mouth to respond, but Sebastian already knew where he was going and cut him off. "I don't know if it's coming back. Should I be so lucky, it has already moved on to annoy somebody else."

There was a brief moment of silence before Sebastian let out an exhausted sigh. Glass shattered within the nearby ballroom, accompanied by astonished gasps, then silence. Vincent peered around Sebastian to the closed doors. Apprehension pricked at the palms of his hands as thousands of worst case scenarios flashed through his mind all at once. Trying to stay positive, Vincent told himself one of the caterers had just dropped a tray of glasses, but the moment was fleeting and seemed too go too be true. Nothing was ever that simple lately, and the coy smirk on Sebastian's face told another tale. Vincent was afraid of what would be featured in such a twisted fable.

Sebastian straightened, and turned, beginning a slow retreat in the opposite direction. Before he could get sucked into this, he was going to put as much distance between himself and whatever was going on inside as possible before Ciel summoned him. "I'd hurry if I were you; who knows what your little friend might do in one of his moods."

Vincent waited until Sebastian rounded the corner, before willing his body into motion and reentering the ballroom. The double doors swung into the dim room, and Vincent let himself back in. The crystal chandelier that had once been suspended from the curved ceiling, was now lying in pieces at the center of the large room. A circle of people had formed along the site of destruction. Dozens of wide eyes were trained on the figure standing amongst the wreckage, and the party goers fearfully whispered amongst one another, trying to read the situation and figure out the best plan of action. A ripple of movement in the corner of his eyes distracted Vincent, and he caught Abberline whispering to a small group. They locked eyes for a brief moment, and nodded to one another, then the young detective moved on, leaving Vincent to distract the fiery-red head while he got everyone else out.

A few shards of crystal sparkled in Grell's long hair from the dim lights attached to the decorative columns that lined the room. The reaper pretended to be shocked by the destruction that surrounded him, wondering out loud how something as tragic as this could have happened. Since Grell had been the one who took the task of ripping the 'eyesore' from the ceiling in the first place, he was asking a rhetorical question with a painfully obvious answer. The heels on his boots ground the crystal shards into a fine powder as Grell roamed around. A few pieces of the broken frame snagged on the bottom of his dress, tearing the once pristine fabric.

Vincent rested his hand on the hilt of his costume sword as Grell approached. It may not have been the most durable of weapons that Vincent had gotten his hands on, but it was good enough for him to hold his own against a seemingly unarmed intruder. At least, he thought it would.

Greéell paid no mind to the humans making a break for the door, having already decided he was going to refocus his energy into the tall man standing before him. The reaper slowly circled Vincent, his yellow-green eyes roaming over his tightly clothed form. An annoyed huff escaped the reaper when he came to a stop in front of the masked man, and he bitterly thought, he have been cute if he wasn't just like his mother. "Aren't you going to scurry away with the rest of your little friends?"

Vincent shook his head, remaining silent for the time being. He knew nothing about what he was up against and had no intention of egging her on. No matter what she had done to his mother, Vincent didn't want to blindly charge into this. There were still too many innocent people around who could get hurt. The woman before him obviously had no qualms about killing the innocent.

"No need to be shy. I know all about you." Grell pranced over to where Vincent was standing. Despite being a couple inches shorter than Vincent, he was doing a thorough job of intimidating the younger man. Vincent fought against the urge to retreat and held his ground, staring down the 'woman' before him. The time had come for him to finally bring him to justice, and he was frozen in fear. Grell had the same bone chilling aura as Sebastian. The only difference was, Vincent didn't know Grell well enough to just assume he was filled with empty threats.

"I didn't think there was anything worth knowing."

Grell pouted, folding his arms over his chest. Between Madam Red's obvious devotion to her son and the brief time he had spent around the boy, Grell refused to accept this watered down impersonation of Vincent. He hadn't crashed the party for this. He was already in enough trouble as it is, this disappointment isn't what he blew off another mound of paperwork for. "Devilishly handsome, smarter than you let on, stubborn, reckless, and that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"You've been following me."

Grell rolled his eyes, taking up wandering around the now empty room. "You aren't even close my dear boy, but you can guess again."

Vincent kept his eyes trained on the mysterious man, not taking anything he was saying with a grain of salt. Why should he? The man was playing him for a fool. If he really knew everything that needed to be know on the subject, why was he wasting time playing around. What was he really here for? Surely crashing a party couldn't bring this much joy to him unless he bore some grudge against Ciel as well. "Why are you doing this?"

"Do I really need a reason to do anything?" This was the first time since William demoted him that he was allowed out without Ronald being forced to follow him. Grell probably should have used his new found freedom more wisely, but in these situations, he had a habit of not thinking things through. The prospect of seeing Sebastian's face when he showed up out of the blue was enough to entice the reaper into slacking off in-between jobs.

"Most people do, yes. I doubt someone like you would kill someone in cold blood."

Grell smirked, revealing his sharp teeth behind his painted lips. "I disagree. There's nothing more beautiful than painting the walls red with the blood of your victims."

A tremor ran through Vincent as he recoiled away from the man before him. He's crazy. What was my mother doing with someone like this? Vincent slowly made his way around Grell, never taking his eyes off of him as he made his way to the door leading out to the garden. The reaper trailed along behind Vincent in a more carefree manner, running his fingers along the broken chandelier frame and actually taking the time to free his dress from another piece of broken metal. When Grell was less than a few feet away from him, his shaky nerves got the best of him, and he finally withdrew his sword from it's sheath.

The reaper stopped a few inches away from Vincent, frowning, "You would stab a lady, would you?"

Vincent bit back several sharp retorts. Even if Grell had been more lady-like, he would have considered it. The man should have been committed. His mother probably wasn't the first person he killed, but given his demeanor, he probably wasn't sane enough to realize what he was doing was wrong.

Grell poorly took to Vincent's silence. "Don't be rude!"

"If I wanted to be rude, I would have said something." A coy smile spread across his face as his hand landed on the brass door handle. The glass door swung backwards, letting in a draft of cool night air. The numerous windows cast squares of light across the grass, offering some guidance for the general direction of he garden. Without knowing where everyone had been evacuated too, Vincent wanted to lead Grell as far away from the house as possible, without having to venture into the woods.

An irritated huff escaped the crimson reaper as he followed Vincent outside. "It isn't polite to lead a lady on, didn't you mother teach you better?"

Vincent' s knuckles turned white from gripping his sword so tightly. Anger threatened to cloud his judgment as he retreated further into the garden. Was this just a joke to him? "You don't even know a single thing about her, do you!"

Grell's eyes widened, and he took a moment to adjust his glasses before leering at Vincent. "I know a lot more than you do. Most of it being something a man like you can never understand."

"What are you if you aren't a man?"

An irritated huff escaped the reaper as he drew closer. Shadows flickered across his face while he perused Vincent. "I already told you, I'm a lady so treat me like one."

For a brief moment Vincent considered scoffing at the crimson reaper. He was the farthest thing from a woman he had ever seen. But of that was a way to get Grell to be slightly more tolerable than he already was, Vincent was willing to put up with whatever the strange man was getting at. "Well madam, what is someone as beautiful and poised as you doing out here alone?"

Grell's eyes narrowed. Flattery would normally get someone everywhere with him when he was in the right mood, but given his final standing with Madam Red, Vincent might as well have been dead to him too. The least he could have done was tried to sound sincere. Vincent had denied him being a woman one too many times for Grell to just roll over and submit. "That's not going to cut it, sweetheart." Grell adjusted his coat so it was no longer dangling around his exposed elbows and stepped forward.

Vincent fell back until he was under cover of the tree in the center of the garden, and readied his sword again. The small sword was lighter than he was used to, it would have taken a couple practice swings for him to get used to using it, should things come to it. "Don't tell me you're afraid?" Grell stopped with the blade a fraction of an inch from his chest. The thin blade shook slightly, a result of Vincent's obvious hesitation.

"Does it matter?"

Grell hummed, thoughtfully running his finger along the smooth side of the blade. Moving the blade aside, Grell closed the small space between them, baring his sharp teeth in a sinister grin. "Yes, because you should be."

Vincent pressed himself into the trees rough back as Grell turned and pranced a few feet away, talking to himself in a low voice. He deliberated with himself for several minutes (just enough time for Vincent to get his nerve back) before sighing deeply and concluding, "there's no helping it."

A chill ran through Vincent when Grell turned, cradling his death scythe in his arms. Lucky for him, William hadn't had the time to fill out the paperwork required for his impending demotion, otherwise he wouldn't have seemed so threatening. What is that thing? If Vincent hadn't pinned himself against the tree, he would have retreated backwards."I'll have to get rid of you too."

Grell revved his chainsaw, the mechanical whirring of it's motor filling the grounds as he charged. Vincent stepped out of the way just in time. The moving blade, lodged itself in the tree inches from where his head had been moments before. Huffing, Grell pulled it free, demanding Vincent stay still.

Vincent ducked again when Grell swung for him. His rapier was balanced in his left hand while he circled the boisterous reaper. As reckless as Grell's battle strategy was, the experience reaper left no opening for Vincent, leaving the poor boy on the defensive. Not being the most agile of people, all the tactical jumping around, and ducking quickly took its toll on Vincent.

"Give it up all ready. Pretty soon these roses will be colored with your pretty blood." Grell lunged again for the unsuspecting Vincent. He stepped to the side a fraction of a moment too late, resulting in the moving blade slicing open his upper arm.

Vincent gritted his teeth against the pain, feeling blood tricking down his arm from the shallow wound. His breathing came out in short rasps. I don't think I can keep this up much longer.

A coy smirk spread across Grell's face as he slowly made his way towards the tired boy. Moonlight reflected sinisterly off his glasses when he shoved them higher on the bridge of his nose.

In his haste to put more space between himself and the bloodthirsty reaper, Vincent's foot snagged on a tree root and he ended up toppling over onto the ground. The wind rushed out of his lungs when his back hit the ground. Spots danced in his vision as he struggled to force air into his lungs, while standing. Grell placed a foot squarely on Vincent's chest and pinned him to the ground, taking the time to savor the moment. He almost expected the boy to beg, anticipated it in fact. Grell didn't think it would take something as small as this to get Vincent to roll over and submit. If anything, it was anticlimactic. I suppose I had the bar set too high, no matter how much potential someone has, they have to be willing to use it.

Vincent squirmed under Grell's weight, trying and failing to free himself as the reaper poised his blade over his chest. "It was nice knowing you. Tell your mother I said hello."

Determination sparked in Vincent's rust colored eyes as Grell tired plunging his death scythe into his chest. Vincent got his hands to the base of the blade, and pushed against the base, while the whirring blades ripped through his coat. Blood splattered across his face as he tried levering his lower half higher. He couldn't afford a chest wound. If he was going to die today, Vincent was determined to not let Grell have the satisfaction of dealing the finishing blow. With one, well timed shove, Vincent got the blade several inches away from his chest and wormed his way forward, throwing the reaper off balance.

Grell took a small step back to balance himself, but it was enough for Vincent to right himself and circle around the reaper again. An irritated huff escaped the shorter man and he whipped around, having every intention of ending this swiftly. He charged for Vincent again, clipping him in the side as he dove to the left. Pain blossomed in Vincent's side as he struggled to his feet once again, Blood welled up in-between his fingers and seeped into his gloves as he tried to ebb the flow. His legs shook as he stood there, sizing up the troublesome reaper about to do him in. "You seem to be the one playing around, not me."

Grell glared at Vincent, taking a moment to fix his coat again. "You're just a mouse, running from the cat."

Spots danced before Vincent's eyes, and he struggled to keep his balance. Exhaustion and blood loss were starting to take their toll on him. When Grell readied another attack, Vincent stood there, bracing himself for what was about to come. He bent his knees slightly when Grell charged, waiting for his moment to strike.

Seconds before Grell made contact, Vincent threw his shoulder under Grell's chest and toppled him onto the ground. His death scythe tumbled to the ground a few feet away, it's incessant whirring finally stopping. Vincent grabbed the heavy chainsaw and balanced it in his arms. He planted a foot squarely on the mans narrow chest and glared down at him.

Grell flinched when Vincent leaned closer, rushing to cover his face should he try to rough him up."Not the face!"

Vincent rolled his eyes, fiddling around with the levers until he got the piece of machinery working. "Now who's the one playing around?"

Grell's eyes went wide with fright, but the feeling faded all too quickly when his boss appeared behind Vincent, scowling at the troublesome reaper. Just as Vincent raised his arms, William grabbed the chainsaw from his hands. "I'll be taking that. Along with this thing."

"William! You've saved me again!"

Vincent took a deep, shaky breath, looking back and forth between Grell and William for a long while. Silence filled the air until Vincent got the nerve to step off Grell, still keeping an eye on both of them. "I must say, I didn't expect this thing to make itself a nuisance again so promptly. It shan't happen again."

Grell nodded vigorously, picking himself off the ground and trying to throw his arms around William. The serious reaper stepped back, and studied the contents of his notebook before latching on to a chunk of Grell's hair. "I am deeply sorry for this mix up, and can assure you that it won't be happening again."

William dragged Grell backwards into the portal he had shown up through, ignoring any and all complaints from his obnoxious co-worker. The thought of all the reports he would have to file for this latest incident were enough to give him a migraine.

In an instant they were gone. Vincent remained where he was for a few moments, breathing in the night air and feeling the adrenaline works its way out of his system. His limbs felt like lead as he made his way over to the tree in the center of the garden. He landed heavily on the ground and pressed his back against the rough bark. Blood dripped down his torso, and the wind sent shivers down his spine, but there wasn't nearly enough energy left in his body for him to go anywhere at this point in time. What he wanted most was sleep. Everybody's gone, I'm probably not going to wake up anyway.

A sense of relief enveloped him when he closed his eyes. He had done what he was supposed to. While this wasn't his outcome of preference, a weight had lifted from his chest. Blood hadn't been spilled on his hands, and someone else would be taking care of his problem for him. All that was left was for him to close this chapter and live out the rest of his days, no matter how many there were left. Given his deteriorating condition, Vincent didn't think it would be much longer. I guess I'll be returning to my mother sooner than I expected.

Why is it so cold? Vincent peeled himself off the cold ground, ignoring his muscles screaming in protest. For a brief moment his vision blurred, and spots danced before his eyes. The scent of roses and blood threatened to overwhelm him as he slowly pieced together the events that had led up to this. When he had closed his eyes, Vincent hadn't expected to wake up again. A large part of him hadn't wanted to. More than once he had found himself wondering if there was a point in going of being able to disappear without anyone noticing had frequently visited him on sleepless nights. He's ask himself who cares, and sometimes go as far as to entertain the notion of disappearing without a trace. It was more than possible, Ciel wasn't about to come looking from him anytime soon. Dropping off the face of the earth would be a blessing for him, and several others he had acquainted himself with. No matter how many people he chose to hand out with, after a few months, none of them would remember his name. He had finally gotten the closure he wanted; there wasn't anything left for him in the city, or anywhere else for that matter. His adult life had barely begun and he already found himself wondering when it would be over.

His breaths came in short rasps as he propped himself up against a nearby tree. Blood started to trickle down his arm as one of his wounds reopened, but Vincent paid it no mind, focusing his energy into undoing the buttons on his coat. Once he had freed himself from the constricting fabric, he discarded his still intact mask, and leaned his head back until it rested against the tree's rough bark.

Fatigue weighted down his limbs and after several minutes of debating, he gave in to the need to close his eyes again. This time for sure… He knew it would take nothing short of a miracle at this point for him to pull himself out of this one. None of his organs had been damaged when Grell tried to run him through, but he had lost a lot of blood.

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves overhead, breaking the silence that had been ringing in Vincent's ears. He brought himself to open his eyes and stared blankly at the sky that was visible in-between the cover of leaves. A few stars twinkled overhead, and a sliver of the moon shone down on his as Vincent thought, I wonder if she can see me from all the way up there.

He shook his head and stared at his blood covered hands. Why does it matter if she can? There's nothing she can do for me now. Darkness threatened to overcome him once again, weighing down his limbs and blotting out his mind. Fatigue left him not wanting to focus on anything besides sleeping again. There's nothing left here, nothing at all.

Dainty footsteps thudded against the ground, accompanied by rustling fabric and ragged breathing. Elizabeth paused to catch her breath and took a moment to brush back some of her once elegant curls. He heart fluttered in her small chest as she scanned the darkened landscape. Eventually, her bright green eyes came to rest on the tree Vincent had been laying under.

Hiking up her skirts, Elizabeth ran over to him. She crouched beside the fallen boy, taking a moment to brush back his tangled hair before realizing who it was. "Vincent, wake up."

Elizabeth's gentle touch was only faintly realized to the unconscious boy, her quiet pleads falling on deaf ears. "You have to wake up! Vincent!" Elizabeth frantically shook Vincent until he groaned, and forced open one of his eyes.

"What now?" A sigh of relief escaped the young girl as Vincent straightened. Frustration pricked at the edges of his waking mind while Elizabeth stood, trying to coax him into doing the same. "No."

Elizabeth blinked a few times, taking a moment to process what Vincent had said before asking, "What do you mean 'no'?"

Vincent let out a deep sigh and rested his head against the tree. "I don't want to. Just leave me be."

"I'm not just going to let you die out here. Get up right now."

"What's the point?"

"The point?" Elizabeth's brow furrowed, and she knelt in front of Vincent. She clasped one of his cold hands in her own, trying to sound convincing. "There's still to much to do with your life, you can't just throw it all away!"

"Who cares?" Vincent took a deep shuddering breath and freed his hand from Elizabeth's. Out of all the people who could have found him, why did it have to be her? Elizabeth would have done anything she had to if it meant she was doing what was best for Vincent, even if he didn't realize it himself. Vincent had always admired Elizabeth's caring nature, but now that he was on the receiving end of her dedication he was starting to rethink his impression. He never would have dreamed on being on the receiving end of one of her 'lectures', especially in this condition.

"I do!"

Vincent rolled his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Try again."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth stood, glaring down at Vincent as he tried to slip back into the abyss once again. "Just because you don't have someone to look after you know doesn't mean you won't! If you applied yourself think how easy it would be for you to settle down." She sounds like my mother.

Vincent opened his eyes again, weighing his options. There was still a chance he wouldn't pull through even if he did choose to go with her, and he wouldn't have to listen to her preach to him about the 'potential' his life had.

The silence between them stretched on, but Vincent eventually let out a defeated sigh, and struggled to his feet. "Fine, do what you must."

Elizabeth moved to Vincent's side, supporting as much of his weight as she could. Given their height difference, it wasn't an easy task. Each step was a struggle for Vincent. His mind was in a haze, and despite Elizabeth's words of encouragement, this felt like a wasted effort. There was nothing that would guarantee he'd wake up again. He had been out there for hours, slowly bleeding and slipping further and further into the darkness.

It felt like hours had passed before Elizabeth eased Vincent onto the floor in one of the guest bedrooms. The light nearly blinded him when she turned on one of the lamps. "I'll be right back. Try not to fall asleep."

Vincent waved her off and flopped over onto his side, weakly mumbling, "no promises."

She sighed, but wasted no time fetching the first aid kit. She may not have had as much experience dealing with this sort of situation as she would have liked, but the least she could manage was cleaning and dressing Vincent's wounds.

When Elizabeth returned to Vincent's side, he had slipped farther into his delirious state. He wasn't so far along that he could manage a snarky comment. "Took you long enough."

"Don't be rude. I'm trying to help you."

"Nobody asked you too."

Elizabeth forced him into a sitting position, and helped Vincent out of his blood soaked shirt. She dipped a clean corner of the ruined fabric into a bowl of water, and started cleaning the dried blood off his arm. Vincent remained as still as he could, only squirming when she started disinfecting the wound, and wrapped the bandage a little tighter than he would have like.

He gratefully turned onto his side as Elizabeth repeated the process. The amount of blood still flowing from the deep gash in his torso made her nervous. He's going to need a real doctor. "You should-

Cutting her off, Vincent opened his eyes and looked to where Elizabeth's slender fingers rested. "Figures. You can sew can't you?"

"Yes but-

"That's all it is. But for the love of God run the needle under a flame first. I'm not going to die because my cousin's fianceé gave me an infection." It was a half baked attempt at humor, but Elizabeth found it hard to make much of Vincent's good mood. Not even an hour ago he had been the one demanding she let him die. Elizabeth didn't know if it was possible to botch giving someone stitches, and if his mother hadn't been a doctor, she wouldn't have even taken Vincent's words with a grain of salt. If he believes I can do this, then I must be able too.

Determination worked it's way to the surface, and Elizabeth rushed to find her sewing kit and some matches. Time was of the essence.

The door opened again, and Vincent had groggily propped himself up on his elbow in attempts to keep himself awake. The only thing it had really accomplished was his hand going numb from supporting his weight. He opened one of his eyes when Elizabeth struck a match, offering, "make sure it's red before you stick it in me."

She nodded curtly, focusing on the task at hand. "Won't it hurt?"

Vincent let out a deep breath. Out of all the things Elizabeth should have been concerned about, he didn't think a few minutes of his discomfort made the list. "Sweetheart, I've just been stabbed twice. I can handle a few pin pricks."

Elizabeth made note of his s patronizing tone for later and nodded again, still not overly convinced. He could put on a brave face, but Elizabeth had more than enough experience dealing with people who never wanted to show weakness. In a half-baked attempt to keep him talking, she asked, "Who tried killing you?"

"Don't worry about it, I took care of it." Vincent fell silent while Elizabeth threaded the needle, not wanting to break her concentration, and only spoke again once she had knotted the thread. "Do me a favor?"

Elizabeth hummed thoughtfully, examining the deep gash on Vincent's side. She still hadn't figure out how she was going to do this, the last thing she wanted was to cause Vincent any more pain that he was already in."What kind of favor?"

Vincent winced when the needle pierced his skin, regretting his urging to get her to stitch him up. But it was this or she would have called a doctor, and he didn't know how to begin to explain this to a doctor without sounding like a mad man. It also ran the risk of him being exposed. "This stay's between us, okay princess?"

"Don't," she paused to jab the needle back into his skin for emphasis, "call me princess. Only Ciel gets to call me that." Her bright green eyes flicked up to Vincent's pale face and she smile at him.

Vincent gagged a little at the image of his cousin using pet names with her. On a good day Elizabeth could hardly get him to call her 'Lizzy' let alone 'princess'. He'd hate to see what his cousin had done wrong to try and butter up the cheery girl that much. Elizabeth never seemed to get mad, but he didn't want to test her patience too much. Her bite was a lot worse than her bark. "Alright, Elizabeth."

"I told you to call me Lizzy."

Vincent looked on as Elizabeth tied off the string, and cut it before turning over onto his stomach. He would have slept on the floor if his eager host would have allowed it. "I'll think about it."

Before he could get comfortable, Elizabeth forced Vincent to his feet again, and half-dragged the unwilling boy to the bed. She took care to help him with his boots and tuck the covers around him. "If there's anything you need, you know where I'll be."

Vincent watched her move about the room through half-lidded eyes, until she turned off the lamp. The door clicked open and before Elizabeth could leave him in the dark he called out to her. "Goodnight Lizzy. Thank you."

Elizabeth hesitated in the doorway, the nodded enthusiastically, unsure of how well Vincent could see her from where he was nestled amongst blankets and pillows. "Don't mention it, goodnight, Vincent."

Once he was sure Elizabeth was gone, Vincent started piling up the pillows around him, until he was safely nestled away underneath the blankets. He could feel his muscles stiffening as he tried to find a position that didn't aggravate his wounds or put pressure on his bruises and failed. He spent a fair amount of time tossing and turning before he gave up and lay on his stomach again, wrapping his arms around the fluffy pillows. Now that he was allowed to drift back to sleep, the darkness refused to take him, leaving him stuck awake. Who knows what would have happened if she hadn't come along.

Maybe it's a sign. Vincent nodded to himself, burying his face in the pillow and closing his eyes, willing sleep to come take him away, even if it was only for a few hours. Despite not knowing what was going to happen next, Vincent knew he would somehow be able to make his way through it.


	7. is this the end?

Vincent groaned, and weakly swatted Elizabeth's hands away. Pain flared up all over his body when he tried moving, deterring the shred of hope that he would get out of bed right away, If he had his way, Vincent could have stayed in bed all day. He defiantly buried his face in a pillow when Elizabeth pleaded, "Vincent you have to get up! Ciel's going to find you if you stay much longer."

"Good, let him." Vincent's voice was muffled from the fabric that covered his mouth, but his words weren't garbled enough for Elizabeth to misunderstand him. An annoyed huff escaped the fiery blonde and she ripped the blankets from Vincent's body, leaving him exposed to the late morning light pouring in from the windows. "You can sleep at home! All of this will have been for nothing if he finds you here. Vincent please."

Vincent sighed softly, knowing she was right. Ciel already had it out for him, he didn't want to be the one to put the final nail in the coffin. Pain radiated through his body when he struggled into a sitting position. After a few deep breaths, he grew accustomed to his stiffened, aching body then swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Give me my-

He blinked a few times as Elizabeth held out the freshly mended article of clothing. He had been hoping for a few minutes of peace while she went to grab it, with no such luck. With Vincent potentially bleeding out just rooms away, and her parents arguing downstairs, Elizabeth found herself needing something to keep her busy. Since it was already out, she decided to put her sewing kit to good use. In no more than half an hour she had mended the rips put in the thick fabric from Grell's death scythe. "Thank you."

Elizabeth beamed. She hadn't thought he would notice. But to be fair, Vincent didn't bother masking the fact that he appreciated the little things she did. "Thank you. It was a lot less nerve wracking than patching you up."

Putting on the coat was a lot easier than supporting his weight on weakened legs. Elizabeth had prepared herself to support Vincent in case he toppled over, but the stubborn young man refused to give into his urge to sit back down. Vincent took a few laps around the room to loosen up his stiff limbs before easing himself onto the floor to put his shoes back on. "If it's any consolation," he paused, fumbling with the zipper on the side. "You did yourself a wonderful job. I don't think I could have done better myself."

"You really think so?"

"Of course. One of the best doctor's in London taught me everything I know." A shadow briefly passed over Elizabeth's face at the mention of Madam Red. Even though it had been several months since her passing, she still wasn't entirely over it. Her approach to the mourning process had been the complete opposite of what Vincent was doing. "She'd be proud."

Elizabeth nodded meekly, offering a hand to help Vincent off the floor. "Safe travels." She left the room first, intending to keep Ciel distracted while Vincent made his not so grand escape.

Once Elizabeth had disappeared down the hallway, Vincent took one final look around the room. The blankets still lay tangled on the bed, but he couldn't bring himself to be bothered with tidying up. There wasn't anything else he could think of leaving behind. He lingered at the top of the stairs, waiting for voices to drift up from the floors below before hastily making his way down to the lower level.

In a matter of minutes he had slipped outside into the bright sunlight, and was climbing into his carriage. He flinched every time the wooden wheels rolled over a particularly large dip in the road or hit a large rock. Normally he had no problems sleeping in a carriage, but now he couldn't help but notice every dip in the uneven dirt road. I can't wait to be home. Then I can sleep the rest of the day away.

Ciel glared at the pieces of metal scattered around the ballroom. Sleep had done nothing but intensify and focus his rage on the masked man who had the gall to infiltrate his inner sanctum. No less putting Elizabeth in danger. How was he supposed to just let this go? Ciel's knuckles had turned white from gripping his cane so tightly, and for a brief moment he couldn't feel his fingers.

He forced himself to take a deep breath when something crashed to the floor in another room. The blood vessels in his temples slowly constricted, a sign of an impending migraine as he awaited the arrival of Mey-Rin and Snake. Sebastian had already been delegated the task of finding whoever or whatever was responsible for this.

Some of his frustration eased when he heard hissing out in the hallway. Soon after, Snake and Mey-Rin joined him. "You called, asks Emily."

"What happened in 'ere?" Mey-Rin adjusted her cracked glasses and gazed around the destroyed ballroom in wonderment. Having been graciously given the night off, she or the rest of the servants were as bewildered as she when they found out what had happened.

Ciel sighed and ignored her question, choosing to address his scaled servant instead. "I want this mess cleaned, and ready for the new chandelier to be installed, am I clear."

Emily hissed and Snake nodded, standing ramrod straight as his Master paid extra attention to him. "We'll do a right proper job, yes we will."

Ciel cringed at the though of Mey-Rin trying to clean something, but he was positive there was no way she could possible manage to break anything sweeping. He waved her off, adding, "Have Finny come move anything that's too heavy for you to move."

Snake nodded again as Ciel started to turn, only to be bundled into Elizabeth's arms. "Good morning Ciel!"

The small boy took a step back, feeling his headache flare up again at her high-pitched voice and chipper tone. "Good morning Eli- Lizzy." He stopped himself short when Elizabeth glared at him for using her full name. "What brings you here today?"

Snake dipped his head in passing and went to grab a broom with Mey-Rin following, leaving he young couple alone for the time being. Elizabeth strategically turned Ciel so he was surveying the disaster area, and she could clearly see the hallway over his shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You had me worried last night."

Her bright green eyes bored into his darker blue ones. For the time being a sense of relief washed over him, knowing she was safe and nothing had happened to her last night. Ciel took her hands into his own and kissed her knuckles before apologizing. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but everything's fine now. What's more important is that you're safe."

She nodded absentmindedly keeping her eye on the hall as Vincent crept past his unsuspecting cousin. "I was thinking we could have tea together before I returned home."

Intertwining their fingers, Ciel began to turn, only to have Elizabeth hold him in place fore a few more moments. "What it is?"

A square of light briefly illuminated the hallway, then went out again and Elizabeth started dragging Ciel out of the room. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something, that's all. Can we have tea in the garden, Ciel? It's such a nice day!" The shorter boy sighed again, wondering how he was supposed to explain the mess outside as well.

Vincent slowly returned to consciousness as darkness clawed its way along the walls of his room. The morphine he had injected himself earlier with had done wonders for him. Even now the effects had still lasted, and he was able to get out of bed with ease. He clicked on a few lights as he made his way through the house to the kitchen. He had finally gained his appetite back again, and he intended to eat something before it left him again.

Just as he clicked on the light in the foyer, there was a hesitant knock at the door. At first he hadn't heard it, but when is guest repeated the action, he sighed and slowly shuffled to the door. It better not be Ciel.

Vincent shivered as cold night air wrapped around him as he cracked the door. Randall was standing there with a timid looking Abberline, and a few others he had seen around the precinct. "What brings London's finest here this late?" Vincent flung the door open the rest of the way, and began to wander towards the kitchen. It was too late in the evening for Vincent to put on any formalities, and he figured the pair would follow him. Randall and Abberline had grown accustomed to Vincent's rather unorthodox method of dealing with company. By now, they had come to expect something like this.

"This is a business call."

Vincent shrugged, working his fingers through his hair before stopping to lean against the wall. Abberline and Randall hadn't moved from their places near the still open door. A tense, uneasy silence fell across the room. Abberline and Randall exchanged knowing glances as the rest of the officers let themselves in and closed the door. Randall took a moment to adjust his glasses before beginning, "I think you should get dressed Vincent, you're coming with us."

"For what?"

They fell silent, and this time, the task of addressing the situation was left to a very unwilling Abberline. "Last night..."

For several moments Vincent stood there, bewildered. Abberline was the only person who had seen him there and known who he actually was. And Sebastian.For the time being he hadn't thought much of the butler knowing who he was, he hadn't done anything immediately about him. Ciel must have gave the signal.He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to figure out how he was going to get himself out of this.

He quietly excused himself then trudged up the stairs. There was no point in standing there. He wasn't going to be able to talk himself out of this one. Maybe if it had just been Abberline, but not with Randall and the others. They would have seen through his ploy before he even got going.

When Vincent disappeared down a hallway, the officers talked amongst each other before deciding to send Abberline upstairs to keep an eye on Vincent. Randall didn't actually believe Vincent would try to make a break for it, but better safe than sorry. Randall didn't need any rumors floating around about him going easy on Vincent just because he had worked with him.

Abberline silently trailed along behind Vincent until they reached his room. Vincent closed the door on the obedient detective and rested his back against the cold wood. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. Nothing good would come of getting overly worked up. Things will work out, they have to. I didn't make it through the night to be publicly executed.

After throwing on a shirt and a heavy coat, Vincent sat on the edge of his bed, trying to memorize the arrangement of furniture and every nook and cranny of the dark green walls. There was no way of knowing when he would be back, it could have been anything from a few hours to a few weeks. I won't say anything unless I have to, some of these guys would be more than happy to lock me away just because of my family.

Vincent heaved himself off the ground, took a moment to close the drapes, then opened the door and turned off the light. "Let's get on with this then. None of us are getting any younger."

Abberline slowly nodded, and waited for Vincent to take the lead once again. The large house gradually darkened as the pair made their way through it. When they approached the landing the only light came from the large chandelier hanging above. Vincent offered no resistance when the officers handcuffed him, and followed along behind them as he was formally arrested. "Vincent Durless, you are under arrest for crimes against the crown..."

Vincent had managed to enter a light doze when the door to his cell was unlocked and Sebastian was announced as a visitor. The key rattled in the lock as the rusty door was thrown open. Vincent picked his head up from where he had been curled up in the corner and pulled himself into a sitting position. Aside from his long hair being more unruly than usual, his trip to jail hadn't done anything to affect his demeanor. If anything he was more determined to screw over Ciel. Whatever seemed to be protecting him better have pulled through during his trial. "What brings you here?"

Sebastian loomed in the doorway, looking down Vincent. In the dim light his eyes faintly glowed pink, and his angular features were in shadow. "Nothing really. Just following my orders."

"Ciel sent you to gloat?" Vincent defiantly folded his arms over his chest and stood. He still hadn't fulled recovered from his injuries, the large bruise on his back was proof of that, but he refused to look weak and he sure as hell wasn't going to let Sebastian think he could kick him while he was down. "Well you can tell him I am having quite an enlightening experience."

"Actually, he just wanted to know how your case was progressing. There's no harm in checking up on you while I'm here."

Every since he had been booked, Vincent was constantly being interviewed and reviewing his statements. When he wasn't holed up in some interview room, he was here. Sleeping and nibbling at things here and there so Abberline would leave him alone for a few hours. Ever since he got here his stomach had been in knots, and what little appetite he had left evaporated. "I'm still alive if that's what you mean. When am I going to trial?"

Sebastian studied Vincent for a moment, debating whether or not he was going to tell. "The day after tomorrow."

Vincent nodded to himself. Nobody was telling him anything, it was nice to know at least Sebastian had remained impartial. Serving Ciel seemed to have had no impact on the butler's 'fragmented' memory. "Suppose I better get ready then."

Sebastian backed into the dimly lit hallway and made his way back to the upper level. The current supervising officer made haste in locking Vincent's cell again, despite the young man having been one of the easiest inmates he's had to deal with. When the guards footsteps finally stopped echoing off the stone walls Vincent let out a deep sigh and went back to his little nest in the corner of the room. Two days until I find out whether or not I'm going to die…

Abberline sat with Vincent, trying to calm his nerves and get him to eat something with no such luck. "You have to eat something, you aren't going to get better if you don't."

Vincent sighed and leaned forward in the squeaky wooden chair he was temporarily place in. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, more of a formality than anything since Abberline was the only one keeping a watchful eye on him. In a matter of hours he was going to be put on trial. His constant state of slight anxiety had only intensified, and the last thing he wanted right now was food. Maybe a shot or two, but definitely not food. In a halfhearted attempted to placate Abberline, Vincent broke a small piece of bread from his roll and placed it in his mouth.

"That's not what I meant. If you won't eat this what do you want?" The doting detective started cutting Vincent's apple into smaller pieces, trying to tempt his unwilling charge.

"How about a little liquid courage?" Vincent smirked at Abberline. For a moment he thought he would actually comply, but a dismissive hand wave was all he got, and Abberline pretended he hadn't asked in the first place. "Try this, it'll be easier on your stomach."

Vincent picked up one of the slices and nibbled on it while he looked around the precinct. A tense atmosphere hung about the gloomy building. They were unevenly divided about what they thought should happen to him. The more bitter, seasoned officers wanted nothing more than for Vincent to be put in place. He had further tarnished the name of Scotland Yard, and only enforced the idea that they couldn't keep the streets safe themselves. However, the bright-eyed new cadets, like Abberline, believe the opposite. Vincent had, or he was starting to, bring a good name back to the police. There were always going to be skeptics, it was a given; one too many officers had gone off the straight and narrow. Vincent hadn't technically broken any laws. At most he could have been cited for obstructing a police investigation, but he hadn't actually killed anybody in his brief adventures as a vigilante.

Those who were just trying to get through the day and mounds of paperwork tried their hardest to remain uninvolved, but somehow they always managed to get themselves stuck in the crossfire. "So how much is buy in for the pool?"

Abberline stared blankly at Vincent for a few moments as the boy reached for another apple slice. His stomach ache was slowly fading, but he still wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't going to throw up. "What pool?"

"You can't seriously tell me nobody here is betting on whether or not I'm getting my head chopped off. Or maybe I should request death by firing squad, some of these 'fine officers' would leap at the chance to put a bullet in me."

"You can't think like that! You aren't going to die! Have faith, you haven't done anything wrong." One of the passing officers snorted, but offered no input, and another one of the desk sergeant glared at him.

"Come on, I wanna cheat these guys out of some money. Which ones bigger?"

"There is no pool!" The stunned silence of several officers didn't help convince Vincent otherwise. Abberline shoved away from the table and stood, prompting Vincent to do the same. "Come on, we should get you to the court house early."

Vincent bit back any crude remarks for the time being. It was nice to know at least someone was still there who had faith in him. He wished he could be as faithful in the courts as Abberline, but Ciel had made himself no stranger to using any means necessary with no regard to anyone else. They might have killed him just to spite his calloused cousin.

The trip to the courthouse was a painfully short one, and once Vincent was there, he was already being lectured on how he should present himself to his audience, as if it was going to make a difference. Vincent had already convinced himself he was a dead man walking, it wouldn't be until the judge convicted him that he would be able to believe anything else was true. He worked the brush Abberline had given him through his hair while he waited. There wasn't much else he could do besides watch people come and go. When this is over, I think I'm going to get this cut off. It's too much of a pain.

It felt like hours before Vincent restored his last patch of red hair to its former glory and gave it back to Abberline. Once his hair was tied back in a bow, Vincent found himself watching the clock on the wall. With five minutes to spare. He sighed and rested his head against the back of the chair. I'm not ready. Why should I have to explain myself? If they want to kill me then so be it.

Abberline coaxed me to my feet and led me down the polished hallway. "Don't worry Vincent, you'll be back home before you know it."

Vincent nodded, not entirely convinced. Even if Abberline knew the outcome of his trial, the young detective would have still tried his damnest to pump Vincent full of hope before they tried ripping him to shreds before his peers. Hidden whispers and prying eyes slowly faded as Vincent was paraded around the crowded room. The second his name had shown up the papers, dozens had gathered to watch the outcome of such a prominent member of the community. Several of his mother's patients had faith that he had good reason for doing what he did, while a vast majority just wanted to watch him be hung for the sake of it. An aristocrat being dragged down to their level was always a festive event amongst the lower-class.

He came to a stop in front of several judges, and was asked the same questions he had given the answer to countless times while he was imprisoned. The answers rolled off the tip of his tongue before he could even think about the question. He purposely left out some details he had gladly given the police, mostly because he didn't want to make it look like he had done anything wrong. While Abberline and Randall might not have thought much of his breaking and entering or his… 'persuasion' of officers in uniform. Just because he had accepted his fate, it didn't mean he was going to throw any more nails into his coffin.

The judges finished their interrogation and all left the room for a brief period of time to deliberate about Vincent's final sentence. He leaned his tall frame against his podium and idly twirled strands of his hair around his slender fingers with nothing to do besides listen to all the excited whispers that had started up again. This is it. He resisted the urge to look around the crowded space, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of his acknowledgment. If he went down now, he refused to put on a show. His family name was already tarnished. Seeming un-remorseful of being a vigilante was the least of his concerns.

When the doors opened again, he straightened, and tucked his displaced hair behind his ear. The three men silently reentered the room and sat down in their respective places at platformed table. "After some serious deliberation. We have decided that the defendant, Vincent Durless, not guilty for the crimes stacked against him." The husky man paused and rapped his gavel on the table when several frustrated onlookers expressed their frustration. After demanding order in his court, he continued, "however you will be paying a fine for property destruction, your bill will be sent to your home."

Vincent nodded, slowly processing what had been told to him. The knots in his stomach slowly untied themselves as he stood there. Disgruntled civilians filing out of the room served as nothing more than background noise as he stood there, in a daze. I'm not...dying?

Abberline draped one of his arms around Vincent's shoulders, visibly more relaxed now that this was said and done. "I told you everything would work out!" He quickly unlocked Vincent's handcuffs, and dropped them into his coat pocket. "Are you okay Vincent, you look a little pale?"

"Pale?" Vincent blinked again, and repeated the word a few more times, rolling it around on his tongue until it didn't feel like a word anymore. "Am I?"

"Do you need anything? I think it's best we get you home, and maybe call a doctor."

The fog shrouding his mind slowly lifted, and Vincent quickly shook his head. "I'm fine, I don't need a doctor." He stepped around Abberline, deciding to take the young detective's advice. "I would like to return home though, I'm feeling a bit peckish."

Abberline's eyes widened slightly, then he smiled and clasped Vincent's back as he started outside. With most of the foot traffic having been cleared out, he didn't have to worry about being accosted by a 'concerned citizen'. "That's a good sign, don't eat too much otherwise you'll get sick."

Vincent wave him off, and joined up with Ciel, Elizabeth, and her brother, Edward, on the court steps. "I can take care of my self."

"I know, I'm just making sure. Take care."

Vincent hummed, jamming his hands in his pocket. "Why Lizzy, it's a pleasure to see you on this fine day. You are more radiant then the sun."

She giggled and playfully punched his shoulder, "Vincent you're much too forward."

Edward's face flushed from anger and he place himself between his precious sister and Vincent. "Don't talk to my sister in such a way!"

Vincent's eyes roamed over Edwards frame before he stopped on his face. Reaching forward, Vincent captured one of his hands in his own and brought it too his lips, earning a deep blush from the older boy, "Then I'll have to say such things to you in her place."

Lizzy giggled while Edward sharply recoiled from Vincent's token of affection. Ciel rolled his eyes and started walking away, coaxing his finaceé into doing the same now that their business was done. "Vincent, we're having tea on Saturday at Ciel's house, you're more than welcome to come." Vincent dipped his head in farewell as the pair briskly made their way to the carriage. "I've got my eye on you."

Edward tried to sound intimidating, despite his pink cheeks and disheveled appearance. "I'll keep my eyes on you." The color returned to Edward's face when Vincent winked, and he trotted after his sister and soon to be brother-in-law, leaving Vincent alone on the courthouse steps in the late afternoon sun. with one thing on his mind what's next for him.


End file.
